


Sizzlin' Seasons Greetings

by Dispatch22705, RositaLG



Series: Christmas Phrack [3]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Christmas Smut, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 29,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dispatch22705/pseuds/Dispatch22705, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RositaLG/pseuds/RositaLG
Summary: It's The 25 Days of Smut: 2017 edition! The holidays can be a stressful time and Dispatch22705 and I are here to make them better. We've assembled your one word prompts, divvied them up between us, and created one giant smutty advent calendar for your holiday reading pleasure.





	1. Nesting

**Author's Note:**

> Today's word is 'Nesting', chosen by Quiltingmom and secretly inspired by a Musicalheart168 gifset entitled "Every Miss Fisher Costume: 27/145" from The Green Mill Murder. I'm easing us into the smut pool slowly, so this one is on the milder side. PS: There are still 3 days worth of prompt words available so leave them in the comments, send me a PM, or visit my tumblr at RositaLG!

Phryne tucked her bare legs to her chest, hiding them inside Jack's oversized knit sweater as she added another log to the fire. The buttons of the thick pullover shimmered in the firelight and she watched the reflected flickering for a moment before turning her attention to the actual fire before her.

“That one will never be returned to my wardrobe, will it?” Jack murmured sleepily from behind her.

“Perhaps if you ask very nicely…” She smirked, making room for him on the rug and reaching out towards him, wanting him beside her.

“It looks better on you.” He replied as he brought the fur from her bed down with him and covered their legs with it. She snuggled up to him, nesting herself in the crook of his arm.

“Are you worried?” He inquired quietly.

She shook her head.

“Just taking stock.”

“Of us?” He wondered out loud.

“Of the situation.” She corrected.

“And what do you find, Miss Fisher?” He mocked waxing philosophical but she could only shrug in return. 

“What about you, Inspector? How do you feel about all of this?”

“I try to avoid interrogation for at least eight hours after making love to a beautiful woman. A man never knows what he might let slip.”

“A wise policy, to be sure,” she agreed, “but I’m afraid we don’t have that luxury tonight.”

Jack fell silent as he glanced over at her luggage sitting menacingly in the corner.

“Such a serious face.” She traced his crow’s feet with her fingertips.

“Tell me that you’ll be careful.” He requested and the vulnerable plea was so uncharacteristic that the teasing look fell from her face at once.

“I will. I promise.” She kissed his shoulder.

“And you know your route?”

“I’ve been mapping it out for years.” She bragged with a wave of her hand. “I always assumed I’d be racing in a competition; now I’ll just be racing back to you.”

“Please don’t rush, Phryne, a few months without you is bearable, but a lifetime…”

She cut off his admonishment with a kiss.

“Don’t worry.” She whispered before climbing into his lap. “I’m greedy. I plan to have you beside me for many more nights to come.” She kissed his furrowed brow and watched as it relaxed under her lips. “But for now, I want to spend the few hours we have left memorizing every piece of you so I’ll have something to take with me when I go.” She pecked at the tip of his nose, his cheekbone, and his jaw as her hand came up to tangle in his sleep-tousled curls. “I’m going to miss being able to see you like this each morning.” She buried her nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply.

Jack stayed quiet, letting her do whatever she wished and simply soaking her in. His steady hands never faltered, even as they made love, tender, slow, and full of unspoken promises.

Phryne shivered with pleasure as Jack’s soft moans vibrated across her skin as they came undone in each other’s arms. He pulled her in tight and fell backwards to the rug. She listened to his pounding heart and tried to memorize the sound.

His faithfulness and understanding as their new relationship was hurled across the sea, gave her faith in return. If they could survive this, they could find a way to make almost anything work. 

As the violet dawn slowly began appearing in her window, Phryne found the bridge of her nose tingling.

“Promise me you won’t shut yourself away while I’m gone.” She whispered and he pulled away to look her in the eye.

“I won’t.”

“And call on Mr. Butler from time to time. You won’t be an inconvenience. He’ll be desperate for someone to cook for.”

“Phryne…”

“And Hugh and Dot will need someone to hand out marital advice. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be any help to them in that regard, even if I were here, but you’re so very good at it.”

“We’ll be fine.” He promised as he stroked her cheek lightly. “We’ll miss you terribly, but we will soldier on. I promise.” He said it as much for himself as for her.

She nodded.

“And you: fly safely.” He began his own list. “Visit Jane. Don’t forget to buy her new books along with her new wardrobe.”

Phryne smiled.

“Write when you can.”

“Every day.” She promised.

“When you can.” He repeated, knowing her well enough to know better. “And for God’s sake, take pity on the inspectors around the world and try to keep the murders down to a manageable number?” He requested.

She laughed through her brimming tears and nodded.

“I love you.”  He kissed the top of her head.

“I love you.” She returned.

OOOOO

When Phryne finally arrived at the hotel that evening, she was exhausted. Her travels and sleepless night had laid her low. If she thought she could trust her father alone that evening, she wouldn’t be dining at all.

She opened up her luggage and began rifling around for her toiletries so she could bathe before dinner when a small brown paper package caught her eye.

She opened it slowly and the smile that appeared nearly cracked her cheeks.

A jar of Jack’s pomade lay in her palm.

She couldn’t resist unscrewing the lid and inhaling the familiar scent.

There was no note, no explanation, but she didn’t need one.

She set the small jar next to her bed, shaking her head at his surreptitious way to be remembered, and wondered when he would discover the bottle of french perfume that she’d dropped in his coat pocket that morning as they’d said their goodbyes.  


	2. Studious

Hello my friends! It's your old pal, Dispatch22705, here--joining the fab RositaLG in this year's smutty countdown to Christmas! We decided to divide and conquer together this year--- thank you to each person who submitted words/prompts!

Today's is "Studious", submitted by @teaandbanjo . Enjoy :)

 

\--j&p--

 

 

It was a bit of a shame really, to discover the joys in being seduced by a studious man… _just_ as she’d come around to the idea of committing to one single person for life. If she’d known the quiet, bookish types in school would have grown up to be like Jack Robinson, she’d have taken more than one of them for a spin. The _thoughtful_ approach, the honing in on her sounds, breaths and reactionary movements as he aroused her...the gratefulness in his eyes, oh the gratefulness! She lay on her back, staring up at him as he gazed down at her, his eyes taking in her appearance from head to toe, but always coming back to meet her own gaze with a sweet combination of confidence and shyness. He knew her but he didn’t _know_ her yet and he was eager to learn. His hands skimmed her body… the lines of her stomach, the curves of her hips, the muscles of her thighs and calves.

She let her own hands roam, stroking his shoulders, his chest, the firm ridges of his abdomen, the thrust of his cock.

He hissed and his chest reddened as he moved forward to rest against her, his weight held up by one elbow as his other hand wrapped around hers. His head fell forward and his breathing grew rougher as he buried his face against her neck.

“Inside me,” she panted, more than ready for him.

Their fingers tangled and then she gripped the backs of his thighs as he situated the tip of his cock to her opening. He moved backward a bit, far enough to look into her eyes as he pressed inside, the slow and deep connection making them both groan with desire. He slid out and then back in, his gaze now on where their bodies met, that slick press into her wet opening, drawing her moisture out on his shaft with every glide out. In and out he moved, swirling his hips, holding himself tight against her, repeating a movement if she cried out or buried her fingernails in his skin.

“I want to feel you come,” he grunted. “How do I make you come?”

She felt strangely touched that he would ask, her studious man. “My nipples,” she said. “If you could suck them.”

Immediately he was on his back and she was straddling him, arching backward as his hands cupped her shoulder blades and his mouth landed on her breast. The curve of his cock pressed against the front of her walls in this position, and the pressure was almost too much to bear. His stubble scratched against her small breasts as he moved from one to the other, licking, nipping, sucking at her nipples. His hands moved to her hips and he began lifting her in time with the suction from his mouth. His hard cock inside her, her clit against his groin, his mouth on her skin—all of it culminated in an orgasm that shocked her with its immediacy.

“Oh, _yes,_ ” she cried as a wave of pleasure swept over her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his shoulders pressing into the mattress as his hips rocketed forward with his own orgasm.

Phryne relished the feel of him coming as he shot into her and gripped her hips with his large hands. She sank down onto him and measured his breathing against her own rhythm, closing her eyes as they synchronized for a few seconds before settling back into their complementary & individual patterns. His arms wrapped around her, and he nuzzled his chin against the top of her head. His thumbs stroked her skin, one along the length of her spine and the other where his hand rested at her hip. It was intimate and soft and still thoughtful and contemplative.

After a moment, she moved enough to meet his gaze, and realized he was still studying her, even in this new aftermath. Her lips curved up and her core clenched again. Oh yes, a studious man in bed was special indeed.

\--j&p--


	3. Ripples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s word is “Ripples”, chosen by whenlovemeetscourage. 

“I warned you.” Jack smiled as Phryne hurried back to his bed, desperate to huddle under the blanket and curl up against him for warmth. They’d made a habit of spending Sunday mornings lazing in whatever bed they’d ended up in the night before and on cold mornings like today, it felt even more appropriate. It was the rare luxury he would have never been able to enjoy before meeting her.

“May I ask you a personal question?” She asked. “You don’t have to answer it if it makes you uncomfortable.” 

“How can I resist?” Jack asked rhetorically. 

“Why did you turn down Concetta’s offer?” 

He looked over in surprise, shocked by both the question and the timing of it. 

“How could you possibly know about that?” He’d never told her anything about his unspoken and unfulfilled relationship with Concetta, let alone the night that sent him to her parlor with a bottle of wine and renewed sense of purpose. 

“Darling, a man might have to be foolish to propose to me but a woman would have to be downright stupid to not propose to you.” She replied knowingly. “Besides, it was plain to see that she was in love with you and I know that she would have given you a more traditional life than I ever could.”

Jack couldn’t stop the scoff that erupted from his chest at her idea of traditional. 

“Surrounded by Italian gangs and generations of vendettas. Murder and mayhem over things as small as tins of tomatoes.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“You could have rescued her from that life and rode off into the sunset together, just like one of your westerns.” The playfulness in her eyes revealed that she understood just how appealing that situation was for men. “I’m just saying, you had choices.” 

“Your imagination is very impressive.” He complimented her, trying his best to not give anything away but Phryne waited for more, willing to wait for a response from a man who liked to collect his thoughts. He sighed and dug deeper. “She did offer to give up her family and start a new life together.” He stated. “But then she kissed me and realized that I could never accept her offer. My heart wasn’t mine to give. It had been stolen by a raven-haired, lady detective long before I’d realized it was gone.” He smiled as he stroked her arm gently. “There was never a choice, Phryne.”

“That’s it? I kidnapped your heart and now you're left making do with me for lack of any personal choice?” She looked to him for confirmation.

“That’s not...” 

She hushed him with a kiss. 

“That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” She purred.

He was wise enough to stay silent and just kept his gaze locked with hers. 

“How long have I had these stolen goods you speak of?” She wondered as she slipped down his body, the sheet around his waist getting pulled aside as she moved. 

“I really couldn’t say.” He answered and it was true. There hadn’t been a singular moment: only a thousand tiny ones. 

“Guess.” She challenged. 

“A stolen crime scene. A train.” He smiled, remembering her early and precocious attempts at charming her way out of trouble. “Gratin. Mug shots. An interrupted theatre show.” 

“Mm.” She hummed as she slowly ran her fingers around his cock. “Shakespeare.”

“An undercover kiss. Cleopatra. A fan dance.” He grunted as she exchanged her fingers for her tongue. “A sea-drenched walk home. An Abbotsford scarf around your neck. A creased tie around mine.” There was a long suck from her in response and Jack knew it was meant to make up for the kiss that had never come then. His head fell back and his hands found her shoulders, caressing them encouragingly as she made love to him with her mouth. He couldn’t begin to explain how they managed to connect emotionally in such a position but he felt the ripples of her love radiating through him with every move. 

With a tight, quiet curse under his breath, he spilled into her waiting mouth before his muscles gave out and he melted back into the bed, completely spent. 

He still hadn’t opened his eyes when she draped her arm across his torso and snuggled into him, no expectations of reciprocity on her mind, simply wanting to recapture the warm cocoon they’d woken up in. 

“This morning.” He whispered, his lips in her hair. 

A soft, hidden smile pressed into his shoulder was the only response.

There had never been a choice, but he’d made the right one. 


	4. Antithesis

Ho, ho, howwww it's going out there? Today's word is Antithesis, so generously prompted by Scruggzi! For this one, I dabbled in a bit of 1st person POV and came up with this drabble!

 

\--j&p--

 

Do you want to know something?

It's not a secret necessarily, though I think I may be the only one who knows it. I'm tempted to not even share it with you all, but it's just too good not to. It's delicious really.

Jack Robinson. The man can wear a suit. They aren't even particularly tailored that I can tell--- he is just that finely built. His shoulders. His lean hips... those thighs. When he leans against the mantelpiece, I have had to clench my fists, bury my fingernails in the palms of my hands to keep from running my hands all over him.

Or at least, I used to.

Because here's the thing. As good as he looks in his suit... he's incredible without it.

Yes, yes of course others have seen him nude. But I'm talking about when he really lets go. Jack Robinson with his cock out. Hands at his sides, his bare body bathed in moonlight, his eyes blazing deep blue. The antithesis of his daylight persona, the prim and somewhat prudish inspector.

He'll place one knee on the bed near my hip, and then the other joins it. Between my legs, over me, sometimes under me. He'll flip me over onto my stomach, stretch out over me from head to toe, gripping one of my hands up near our pillows while his other hand masterfully works between my thighs. His skin against mine is always warm, so firm and tempting.

There's no space between us, no air between the breath we share. And though I'm independent, I find I don't mind at all.

 

\--j&p--


	5. Ethereal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s word is Ethereal, chosen by Ohrosewhatsinaname.

He had imagined it so many times that it felt ethereal in the moment. The casual way she took his wine glass out of his hand and set it aside, her slow crawl over top of him to sit in his lap, straddling him as she undid his tie and loosened his collar.

His hands instinctively found her hips as she kissed his neck once.

“Are you sure?” She whispered, giving him a chance to change his mind. He answered her by pulling her close and kissing her properly, wanting to be clear about his position. His fingers tangled in the back of her bob as he held her fast. 

“Jack.” She hummed with delight at this change. 

“Ask me upstairs.” He whispered. 

She stared into his eyes, leaning back into his hands with an intimate trust that took his breath away. She stood up and held out her hand for him. He took it and let her lead him up the stairs. 

Phryne closed the bedroom door with a nearly silent click before finding her way back into his arms. 

As her hands found their way under his suit coat and pushed it off his shoulders, Jack’s nimble fingers slowly undid the buttons of his waistcoat before working on the dress shirt beneath it. He pulled the shirt off quickly and tossed it aside.

Phryne stripped herself of her black lace blouse and black trousers, leaving her in a black camisole and tap pants. She closed the distance and ran her fingers over the waistband of his trousers before unbuttoning them slowly. 

Jack clutched at the black silk she was wearing, looking over her shoulder as she freed him from the last of his clothes. When he was naked, he slid his hands up her camisole, taking advantage of the ability to touch her and undress her at the same time. He loosened the string of her tap pants and watched in wonder as they fell to the floor. 

“Oh…” He stared in awe of her. She was as beautiful as he’d imagined she would be but there was something about the smirk she was wearing as she slid onto her bed that unfurled him. 

“Touch me, Jack.” She gave him permission as she reached for him to join her. 

His hands were the last thing on his mind as his mouth watered at the thought of exploring her flawless skin. He climbed over top of her and lowered his mouth to her breasts. 

Her gasp of pleasure was muffled as Phryne buried her hands in his hair. As Jack moved down her body, kissing her stomach and hips, he could smell her arousal and it drew his attention even lower. He dragged a knuckle across her wet core, testing her. He looked up at her, silently asking permission, but her eyes were closed. He spread her thighs, kissing each of them in praise as he laid out his plan. 

“Jack…” She sighed as his mouth found the small bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. As his tongue darted out to taste her, he slid a finger within her, and then another, until she was all he could process. He knew he would never get enough of this: the sensation of her muscles squeezing around his fingers, her sweet taste on his tongue, the pants and moans laced with his name filling his ears as he brought her to release. 

She came quickly, in a sudden wave of pleasure that surprised both of them when it crashed.

“Oh my God.” She moaned as Jack sucked his fingers clean. “That was…” 

She looked so thoroughly ravaged, he had to smirk. The next time she walked into a room, perfectly constructed, wrapped in her furs and silk, he would recall this moment. He held the incredible power to render her speechless.

He kissed her, the taste of her body still on his tongue and mixing with the soft remnants of the tart wine she had been drinking earlier. She stroked at his jaw lovingly with her fingertips.

“I want you inside me.” She murmured quietly. He nodded his agreement, rubbing noses with her, and she reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out a black case. 

It had been quite some time since Jack had done this but he was completely confused by the action until she produced a small rubber cap out of the case. 

“Family planning.” She explained as she inserted the device with practiced ease. When she was finished, she rolled over top of him, pinning him to the bed. “I’ve waited a long time to ask you this, Inspector, so answer honestly.” She teased as she nipped at his chest. “How would you like us to proceed?” She asked through heavy-lidded eyes as her hand stroked absentmindedly at his cock, toying with him. 

“Just like this.” His hands found her hips and he guided her movements down onto him. 

“Oh God.” Phryne closed her eyes and ran her hands over her chest and down her torso and across his chest. She leaned forward, setting a slow pace that they both felt achingly deep within their bodies. 

“More.” Jack begged, unable to say anything else and she began to swivel her hips faster. She came with a cry and as soon as she stopped fluttering around him, Jack turned them over so she was flat on her back.

He set his own pace this time, long, deep thrusts that stretched his nerves until they couldn't take it any longer and exploded with pleasure.

He felt her stroking the back of his head and he pulled out of her gently and returned to his side of the bed, collapsing next to her. B ut she wasn’t ready to let him go, tugging him back towards her for a kiss. 

“Tell me that wasn’t worth the trip upstairs.” She smirked against his mouth. 

He groaned in exhaustion as she giggled into his shoulder before rolling over to go clean up.

“All that time and talent being wasted on bachelorhood.” She muttered. “Thank God you found me.” She commented. 

“Mm.” He agreed stoically. 

When she returned, she wrapped herself up in the sheet from the bed and propped herself up on her elbow. 

“You’re not having any regrets, are you?” She asked as she stared down at him.  

“No.” He could see the nervous energy radiating from her and he fought a smile. “Do you always talk this much afterwards?” He inquired, propping himself up on his elbow to match her. 

“There usually isn’t years of foreplay before hand.” She pointed out. 

“Mm, that’s true.” He acquiesced. 

“I mean, you’re you and I’m me and this, this was,” her eyes went wide, “you know?” 

“I do.” He agreed. 

“I’m going to be quiet now and let you sleep, unless you wanted to leave. I mean, you’re welcome to stay. I’d like you to stay. But don’t feel obligated.” 

He chuckled at her fumbling. 

“I’m not good at this.” She confessed. “Seduction, yes. But afterwards… I don’t usually have these conversations.”

“No?”

“No.” She was staring at him intimately and the magnitude of her confession made him take a deep breath. 

“We’ll get the hang of it.” He said confidently. “It might take some practice…” He looked over at her hopefully. 

“You think so?” She smiled at his suggestion. 

He nodded. 

“I’d like that, very much.” She replied and they both settled into the mattress.


	6. Deja vu

Today’s word is deja vu; brought to you by bluecityrose! Hope you’re having a great December; here is some early established Jack/Phryne!

\--j&p--

 

“Oh yes,” Jack grunted, sliding in and out of her. “So good,” he praised, squeezing his eyes shut as his hips pistoned forward and back. “ _Phryne_.”

“Mmmm,” she replied, skimming her fingers down his slick back.

His rhythm faltered and then sped up again. “Are you…” he forced his gaze open. “Are you close? _I_ _’_ _m so close_.”

She gave another non-committal sound, and he paused, his face flushed as he stared down at her.

“Are you…going to come?” he finished with a hard swallow, his hips still twitching between her legs.

Phryne ran her hands over his arms, and down over his chest. “No, I don’t think so. Not this time…but don’t stop Jack.”

“I…” he blinked, as if in a daze.

“It’s okay, Jack” she swiveled her hips, pleased when he automatically slid out and inside of her as if on instinct.

“I don’t…” he gasped, his forehead furrowing. “It doesn’t seem right…”

“You really want to discuss this now?” she teased, upping her case by wrapping her legs around his waist and nipping at his jawline.

He groaned and buried his face in her neck, cursing and thrusting.

“No, wait,” he panted, pulling back.

She rolled her eyes at his sense of honor. “Jack, really…”

His eyes narrowed, and she waited. And while she waited, she squeezed him with her internal muscles.

He cursed again. “Stop…”

“Stop what,” she purred innocently.

“That…” his neck fell back with a groan and his eyes slid shut again. “The fluttering thing.” He rasped. “With your pussy. The fluttering pussy…stop.”

She merely laughed and gripped his bottom, grinding up against him from below. “Let go, Jack. It feels good. Come for me,” she demanded as she squeezed him from the inside and out.

He thrust, twice, and then froze before bucking into her, his breath as fast as his hips as he poured his come inside her. He collapsed on top of her, twitching with aftershocks, and she soothed him with cool hands along his shoulders and back, murmuring her praise.

But after a moment, he froze again. He pulled out of her and moved to his side next to her, eyeing her with a small amount of trepidation and suspicion.

She quietly met his eyes, waiting for him to process what he wanted to say. He cleared his throat, and she watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed and he licked his lips. “What happened?”

Phryne bit back a chuckle. “You came, and I didn’t,” she replied as matter of factly as she could.

“Yes, but…”

This time the small laugh escaped. “It’s fine, Jack. It happens…”

“I’m aware,” he cut her off, and her eyebrows rose in question.

He sighed and rolled to his back, covering his eyes with his forearm. Refusing to let him get away, even emotionally, she moved closer to him and laid her own arm and hand over his stomach and chest.

“With Rosie,” he began. “It wasn’t always…” he swallowed. “It wasn’t as good as it is between us.”

An insidious spark of pride lit in her belly, but Phryne remained silent, anxious to hear what else he said. He lowered his arm and met her gaze, sliding her hair behind her ear.

“It was sort of…understood,” he explained. “That we were trying to have a baby, so it was necessary, and…practical.”

Phryne placed a kiss to the center of his chest. “Nothing wrong with practical sex sometimes,” she replied.

“Yes, but…” he shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I just had the sense of déjà vu. That maybe you were feeling used.”

She smiled at his use of the French phrase; he must have heard it during the war also. And it was well used…earning him another kiss, this time against his shoulder.

“Darling,” she tried to reassure him. “Sometimes that is how it is. And it’s not being used…” she quickly added, already seeing him wanting to rebut her statement. “Let me ask you this. When I am feeling particularly aroused, and you use your mouth or your glorious fingers on and in me to make me come several times…even if you don’t come yourself until later…” she let her words trail off as his mouth curved in an acknowledging smile. “Do you feel used?”

“No,” he admitted. “It’s about giving.”

“Exactly,” his kiss-reward was on the mouth for that one. “That’s how it is with _us_ , Jack. That’s how I want it to be.”

The last sentence was quieter, more intimate, and Jack traced the soft curve of her bottom lip with the tip of his index finger. “I want that too,” he agreed. “It’s not about keeping score. It’s just about being together.”

She nipped at his finger and he growled, reaching up to capture her mouth with his. He kissed her until she groaned, and she moaned again when he gave a naughty smile against her mouth.

He flipped her over and began trailing his mouth over her neck, down toward her breasts. With a soft suck to each nipple, he rested his hand against her stomach. “Any objections to me being particularly giving right now?” he teased as he moved his fingers between her slick folds.

“Mmmmm,” she arched back, her legs widening around him. “None at all, Jack. None at all.”

\--j&p--


	7. Mint Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is "Mint Chocolate" brought to you by Kanste, which is a more exotic step up from her "chocolate" choice last year. She's keeping me on my toes, this one.

Jack and Phryne stumbled through the back door less than quietly. They had decided to mutually use cocktails to survive the boredom of the Stanley Christmas party and they were both starving in the way that only two tipsy, well dressed, desperately bored people can be in the early hours of the morning.

“Yes. Leftovers.” She crowed victoriously as she pulled two slices of Mr. Butler’s mint chocolate pie out of the icebox. Phryne swiped her finger across the mint cream top of the pie and sucked it slowly. “Mmm.” She repeated the gesture but this time offered her finger to Jack, who glanced around furtively before leaning in and sucking her finger into his mouth. Her breasts and core ached in response and she shifted, trying to ease the discomfort.

Jack noticed her little shimmy and smirked as he released her finger.

“Miss Fisher, are we alone tonight?” He wondered out loud as he moved in closer. The dark, empty kitchen suddenly feeling hidden and intimate.

“Completely.”

“Good. Because I’m suddenly overcome with the urge to do this.” His hand slowly moved up her dress to her inner thigh and she closed her eyes, relishing the circles he was drawing there. His other hand grabbed a spoon and cut a small bite of the pie and held it up for her.

“Open.” He commanded and she did as she was told, taking the bite.

“Mmm.” She moaned as Jack’s fingers found her through her silk lingerie, now drawing circles around her clitoris with every motion of her mouth. When she was done, he kissed her, tasting the dessert on her tongue.

Phryne reached down and plucked a piece of his pie with her hand and fed it to him straight from her fingers. She cleaned any stray crumbs from his skin with her own mouth.

“Another…” He offered her another bite, and they continued their ministrations until both of their slices of pie were done and they were both writhing with every teasing circle of Jack’s finger.

“Now.” She demanded and he finally took pity on her and pulled the soaked silk to the floor. She clawed at her bodice, wanting access to her swollen breasts. He helped her undress and laid her out on the kitchen table, admiring her even as he undressed himself.

When he was nude, he stood at the head of the table and pulled her legs around his waist, plunging himself inside of her drenched folds. His head fell back in sweet release as he finally felt her warm muscles throbbing around him.

Phryne’s hands clung to the top of the table above her head, holding on for purchase as she twisted her hips to meet his every delirious thrust. They were moving solely with blinding, careless need and it had never felt more indulgent.

“Oh, Jack, yes! Yes, just like that.” She cried as he took her frantically, unable to do anything else. “So good! So good! So-ooohhh!” They shattered together, neither one knowing which way was up as the world spun around them.

Jack collapsed into the nearest chair, sweaty and shaking. He glanced around for a towel, wetting it at the sink before attending to Phryne while she lazed before him.

“I think a bath would be more practical.” She hummed as he worked on getting the chocolate out of her manicure.

“But less enjoyable for me.” He smiled and kissed her wrist before moved lower, caressing her thighs with the soft towel and making her close her eyes.

“Well, if you insist.” She settled back in.

“There.” He completed his task. “All clean.”

“We’ll agree to disagree.” She countered as she flashed him a smirk so filthy, Jack nearly took her again right there on the table.


	8. Boots

**A non-smutty chappie, just under the wire on the 8th! Hope it warms your heart--- inspired by "Boots", prompted by hisreindeerjumper (PS...is this a Mark Darcy joke?)**

 

**Boots:**

 

He’d seen her in bare feet; he’d seen her in kittenish heels, as she sat on his desk and crossed her legs at the knee. But these were different. With the weather turning colder, she’d begun wearing brown leather boots, with small spindly heels. They went up her calf muscles, the delicate lacing and hooks framed by designs in the leather. They weren’t revealing—they were frankly practical, and often times the bottom of her skirts or dresses would reach all the way to the tops or even cover half of them, leaving him only small glimpses of her stockinged legs.

It was the glimpses that haunted him. They made him feel… like he did as a boy, staring at the legs of the pretty new teacher at school. He wouldn’t have known what to do with them if he’d had Ms Cunningham all to himself…he just knew he’d been fascinated by little peeks of silk, of the idea of pulling the top loop and loosening the shoestring…youthful fantasies.

He’d seen Phryne scale walls and climb buildings and chase down criminals. But ironically, when she did falter, it was simply on a street curb near the police station. He was beside her, and as she stepped down, her ankle twisted. She reached for him, and he reached for her, and with a grip to her elbows, he straightened her up. But the grimace on her face told him more. “Your ankle?” he guessed.

“I think so,” she winced. Phryne Fisher was the toughest woman he knew, and he stared down at her, letting his gaze move over her from head to toe. When she hissed a breath at her first step, he shook his head.

“Wait,” he demanded, already moving his arms in order to pick her up. That she didn’t put up a fuss told him she was in pain. “Let me help.”

“My hero,” she grimaced in a droll tone, and he smiled…glad she was still herself even in this.

“I charge by the minute,” he returned, even more glad when she breathed out a laugh.

Her arms were around his neck, and his arms cradled her. They’d been in this position before, though she’d been drugged at the time. The fit was intimate, but natural to him, but even so, when her fingertips fluttered against the hair at the back of his neck, his knees nearly buckled. He concentrated on getting them to his office. Luckily only Collins was working the desk at the station, studiously ignoring Jack carrying Phryne over the threshold to his office.

He gingerly placed her on his desk and then motioned for her to scoot backward. Instinctively, his hands moved down her side and over her hip, and then down her outstretched leg as he cupped her calf in his hand and looked down at the boot.  She gasped at the feel, and their eyes met for a charged second.

He cleared his throat. “How expensive are these?”

Her eyes flared. “Too expensive to just cut them off, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It had been the question in mind. So it was to be the slow way.

He looked around his office for some inspiration and decided to pull his desk chair up and have a seat. From the position, he could keep her leg straight and have enough leverage to remove the boot.

Phryne leaned back on her elbows, and he barely concealed a groan at the way she looked. He couldn’t resist running his fingertips over the silk of her stocking just above her leather boot. She shivered, and he moved the fabric of her skirt higher up toward her knees. With gentle precision, he unlaced the boot, concentrating everything he had on the process and not on how she was practically quivering in response. Whether it was pain or arousal, or some compelling combination of both, he wasn’t sure. But the air around and between them hummed with anticipation, both of them fully covered from head to toe. It was practically Victorian, and yet…

He cupped her ankle and met her gaze when she froze. “I’m afraid this may hurt.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” she flushed, trying to keep her mind from the pain.

He lifted an eyebrow, but also didn’t stop his mouth from curving up in a small smile at her teasing joke.

“It already hurts,” she waved a hand in the direction of her foot. “Just go slow.”

The possible continuation of her joke settled, unspoken between them, but entrenched in the sly humor always under the surface in their rapport and flirtation.

He gave a tug, and she cursed under her breath. The boot gave an inch, but required more massaging. He slipped his fingers beneath the leather and cupped her lower calf, gently applying pressure and leverage to move the boot downward. She arched and moaned, the movement so like what he imagined her to be like in the throes of passion that he had to stop for a moment and close his eyes.

It wasn't fair that he was getting aroused. Bearing down on his inner grit and determination, he got back to work, murmuring small encouraging phrases until with a soft pop, the boot was free from her leg, and he was holding her swollen ankle in his hands. He tsked out a softly sympathetic sound. “I’m afraid you’ll be laid up for a couple of days with this.” His fingers stroked the ridges and curves of her foot.

“I’ll call Mac, and have her come to Wardlow to take a look at it.” She made as if to get off the desk, and he stopped her as quickly as he could, realizing too late that he’d done so by placing his hands on her knees.

With a flush, he removed his hands, but only as far as to rest them on his desk on either side of her legs. “ _I_ _’_ _ll_ call Dr. MacMillan. And then I’ll drive you home.”

Their eyes met and held, captured in sweet awareness. “Or you could take me home, and then call her,” she teased.

He shook his head at her tone, but also smiled. “I suppose that would work as well”

“Does this mean you’ll be carrying me to bed, Inspector?” she flirted, already lifting her arms to wrap around his neck again.

This time he laughed, even as he blushed a bit. “One step at a time, Miss Fisher. One step at a time.”

\--j&p--


	9. Method

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There comes a time every December where Dispatch and I mind meld and write similar things. Today is that day. Back to back leg smut!
> 
> Today’s word is Method, chosen by Zannadubs23

Jack had always been a legs man.

Even after Helen Birch had taken him into the potter’s shed, unbuttoned her blouse, and let him touch her breasts, (a tantalizing moment in his sexual history to be sure) he still couldn’t resist the call of what might be hiding under her skirt. He’d gotten more of a thrill from sliding his hand up her dress and covertly touching her bare thigh than any experimentation with her breasts.

So, it made perfect sense, really, that Phryne Fisher’s weapon of choice was revealing her legs to him. Whether he was easy to read or had just gotten lucky, she’d made quite a habit of it, usually while on the job and in locations where he had absolutely no ability to act on his desires. He always found her reasons varied and creative: a boost up a wall, a fan dance, a stolen painting, evidence and weapons hidden in garters. It was enough to drive even a good man mad.

So when he returned to his kitchen and saw her sitting on his makeshift desk, sipping his glass of whiskey, with an obscene slit in her party dress that went higher than her garter when her legs were crossed like that, he’d decided he’d had quite enough temptation for one lifetime. 

“Just what do you think you are doing?” He asked as he made his way towards her, wondering if the lock on his front door even worked any more after all the times she’d picked it.

“Borrowing your whiskey.” She replied as he took the glass from her. She pouted at the loss. 

Jack drew a line with his finger along the stocking line that was visible, toying with her garter. 

She didn’t move, letting him have his fill. 

“What are you working on this late into the night?” She inquired, looking behind her at the stack of files.

“Your stocking.” He replied dryly as his fingers opened her garter deftly. He rolled her stocking slowly down her leg, letting his fingers caress the skin as he went. He let her shoe fall to the floor with a thud, ignored, and he dropped her stocking beside it. He did the same with the other until both of her legs were bare.

He placed a hand on each of her ankles, drawing her legs apart and caressing the soft skin there as he stepped between her pale limbs.

“Jack Robinson, what has come over you?” She faked a scandalized tone but he knew why she was here this late and he would bet that she was more than a little impressed by his brazen method of seduction.

“These legs…” He whistled his approval as he stroked the entire length of them. “There isn't a better pair in all of Australia.”

“Just Australia?” She looked momentarily offended. 

“The world.” He appeased.

“Thank you.” She raised her chin in pride. “Continue.”

“I’d rather not.” He replied, stepping forward and pressing himself against her. Talking was wasting valuable exploration opportunities. 

She understood. She pressed herself into his chest as she stood up, teasing him just a little more through their clothes before silently walking towards his bedroom. He gave her a two second head start as he watched her walk. 

He was a very lucky man. 

When he found her again, she was undoing her dress and hanging it over a chair. He pulled his shirt off quickly and tossed it in his hamper. His belt and trousers followed until they were both naked and staring hungrily at each other from across the room. 

Phryne sauntered over to the foot of his bed, meeting him halfway and sat down. 

Jack wasn’t sure if it was her idea or his, but he knelt in front of her and placed his hands around each of her thighs and began caressing them from her hips to her knees. He ran his fingers along the flesh behind her knees and she shivered.

As his hands roamed where they would, his mouth was drawn to the sweet flesh of her thighs, tasting, kissing, teasing. 

Phryne fell back on the bed, her hands finding her own breasts and massaging them for relief.

Jack took advantage of her new position and sucked her clit into his mouth, probing it with his tongue. Her thighs clenched around his ears in response as her hips arched up to greet him. 

He worked slowly and purposefully at getting her off, wanting to relish in every twitch of her muscles and every moan that spilled from her lips.

He reached up to hold her still, brushing his thumb across the sensitive skin stretched across her hip bone and she let out a tortured cry of pleasure telling him she was damn close. He added his second hand, giving her something to thrust her hips against and his name became a murmured chant as she found her own rhythm against his mouth and his hands, growing louder and louder until she broke like a wave beneath him, the pulsing of her body giving way to a gentle humming of satisfaction as her orgasm ebbed.

Meanwhile, Jack’s erection was screaming for attention and he fisted himself tightly, looking for some comfort as he stared down the horizontal plane of her body.

Phryne saw the motions and put her foot on the front of his shoulder, stopping him from moving forward and she spread herself open for him, revealing her wet, glistening cunt to him.

“Are you proud of your work, Jack?” She taunted and he couldn't help but stare at her pink, swollen flesh.

“Are you aware that no one else can affect me the way you can? That these beautiful legs that you love so much tremble and go weak at just the thought of you.” She stroked her thighs for him and he grunted out a response.

“I wonder if it makes your ego swell as much as my body?”

He vaguely felt a bead of sweat slip down his spine.

"It turns me on. I could come again now, just watching you.” She confessed as one hand touched her breast.

Jack clenched his jaw and his chest grew tight.

“No. Let go, Jack.” She encouraged as her hand found her clit and stroked it. "Please let me watch you come." 

The plea was more than Jack could bear. He leaned back on his heels, arching into his hand, and shot semen over his own stomach as he exploded in a long, hard orgasm that shook him to the bone.

True to her word, Phryne came again, her voyeuristic pleasure aided by her own hand.

When Jack finally joined her in bed, he was met with a sleepy grin.

“Thank you." She kissed him. 

Unable to believe that _she_ was thanking _him_ , he simply nodded. 

"And just like that, my reserved Jack is back." She smiled. "The best of every world."

Jack rolled his eyes and pulled her into his embrace, wrapping his body around her smaller frame and settling in for the night.

"I love you." He whispered, needing to say the words out loud tonight.

And Phryne, perhaps unable to believe it herself, simply nodded.


	10. Tattoo

This chapter is prompted by and dedicated to the awesome sunsetdreamer! I am trembling in my socks, as "tattoo" is a traditional gift between her and RositaLG. Hopefully I do it justice. SD likes established and happy Phrack, so that is what I've done.  Happy Christmas, friend of friends!

 

\--j&p--

 

London was a revelation to him. It was a series of revelations, actually. Theater, arts, walking hand in hand with Phryne, seeing her smile at him through softly falling snowflakes, the reds of her coat and lipstick and cheeks filling him with love and life. She introduced him to some of her favorite haunts, and he relished seeing her re-engage with things she loved. He loved watching her in her element. 

Of course not everything was story-book perfect. There were moments where her not-so-favorite haunts also crossed their paths. He’d gotten good at reading her moods. She’d pause, grit her teeth for a second and then paste on an overly-bright smile and quickly encourage him to keep walking forward. As he had nowhere else to be but by her side, he had no problem accommodating her.

Their nights were filled with love, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes soft and so tender he feared he’d wake from a dream.

On this particular night, as they undressed for bed, he noticed her forehead was furrowed. “Phryne,” he began, mirroring her as she climbed under the sheets. “What’s the matter?”

She blinked, surprised out of her reverie. On her side in just a camisole and underwear, she looked young. “It’s nothing,” she smiled, and he reached toward her to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” he countered quietly. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

She gave him a half-smile. “You’re right, it’s not nothing.” With a swallow, she took his hand in hers and clasped them against her hip. “A couple of the children we saw today reminded me of myself is all.” 

“Mmmmm,” he murmured encouragingly, letting his fingers smooth over the silky material at her waist. 

Phryne blew out a breath and turned over to her back. “I could see the tags of their coats and saw their mothers had written their names there.” 

Jack chuckled. “My mum did the same thing when I was young. I was always getting too hot and taking my coat off and then forgetting it.” 

Phryne smiled in return. “Mine too. But after a while, the clothes were too ragged or, when I wanted to be anonymous, I would cut out the tags.” 

“Ah,” Jack smiled, imagining the impish and stubborn girl she described. 

“Father was worse,” she swallowed. “He would grab me and use a pen. Write ‘Property of Henry Fisher’ right on my skin. Or ‘if found, return to Henry Fisher’ or something.” Her lips pursed in disgust. “And always somewhere I couldn’t reach or wash off easily.” 

Jack remained silent, keeping his palm against her hip. 

“I don’t know why this is bothering me,” she confessed. 

He snuggled up closer to her and she responded, pressing her mouth against his. “Would you like to be distracted?” 

“I believe I would,” she smiled against his lips, a genuine smile this time. 

With one finger, he traced the strap of her camisole, then followed it with his lips, nudging the silky string down her equally silky shoulder. Her breath rose and fell as he traced the line of her arm down to her elbow and back again before moving to the other arm. Her camisole was loose-fitting and he lowered it to her waist, baring her breasts to his gaze. Softly he brushed kisses against her collarbone, the inner curves of her breasts, and the base of her throat. Phryne shifted and relaxed into the mattress, letting her fingers weave through his hair and down to stroke his jaw. When he wrapped his lips around one soft nipple, she murmured a sigh and closed her eyes. The tip firmed in his mouth and he began to suck, using his tongue in long, languid strokes. 

“Yes,” she moaned and arched up toward his touch. “More.” 

He obliged, gladly, moving over to capture her other breast in his mouth. She grunted and shifted again, pulling him closer until her legs were on either side of his. He rested his weight on his elbows and kissed her mouth, groaning at the feel of her wet and tight nipples against his bare chest. He moved back and forth, the sensation a delicious friction he would never grow tired of. 

The silk of her camisole bunched at their waists and he pressed forward, rubbing his hardening cock between her legs. Her underwear were damp, so warm, in welcome, and he couldn’t help cupping one of her thighs, moving it outward to give himself a better angle. 

“Jack,” her fingers grew rougher, spearing into his hair now before raking down his back. “More,” she commanded again. 

He nipped at her lips, making her gasp, before he moved down her body. He pulled her clothing off in one swoop, leaving her covered only in the flush of aroused desire. With a firm touch, he parted her thighs, scraping his teeth along the curves there before settling against her wet warmth. Her hands were on his shoulders now, urging him even closer. Jack had no problem answering the call. He ran his tongue along her outer folds, letting just the tip slip in between. He slid a fingertip against her opening, gathering moisture and swirling it up toward her clit, rubbing just at the base of it until her hips rocked down and outward toward him. He followed the movement with his tongue, swiping from her core to her clit. He sucked her into his mouth as he slid two fingers inside of her, burying deep and holding, letting her get used to the feel. She was wet and so tight, still a dream come true for him. He traced the soft ridge of her clit, gently massaging it round and round as he fucked her with his fingers. 

Phryne went from gripping his head to his shoulders and neck, to his biceps, and back again. She murmured his name and a chorus of _yes_ and _more_ and _oh please don_ _’_ _t stop_.  He slid his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue, sliding the digits up to take care of her clit. He moaned against her opening, licking up into her and circling the rim with his mouth. Her murmurs turned to cries, and she froze for a second before clamping her thighs around his head and coming against his face in pure, agonized, ecstasy. Jack rode out the wave with her, pressing his face against her thighs, kissing and nipping her skin, knowing she liked the rougher touch when she was highly aroused. 

She flopped against the bed, and her hands urged him upward. He followed and covered her mouth with his. “Mmmmmmm,” she smiled, licking at his lips and kissing his chin. His head fell back and he reached between them with one hand to cup his cock and set it at her opening. With a groan, he slid inside that tight and hot-wet heart of her. 

“Oh,” he moaned. “Fuck, it’s so good.”

He pressed and withdrew, leveraging his weight on his elbows and knees so he could go deep. Phryne bent her own knees back, giving him the right angle and access to bottom out inside of her. Jack panted, his head falling to her chest; his mouth opened against her neck and throat and he gasped for air as he gave in to the rhythm his body craved. In and out. In and out. In, and a hard press of his hips that made them both jolt with pleasure. In and out again, again, and then another press…this one longer than the one before. He kept it up as long as he could. Each press was so good, it became harder and harder to leave her body, even for the promise of the luxurious slide that awaited him. After a few more thrusts and presses, he gave in, burying himself deep and pouring his come into her, rasping her name and throbbing from head to toe. 

Her hands roamed his back and bottom, and then came to rest against his face. She pulled him back enough to meet his lips with hers, giving him a soft kiss in benediction. He returned the kiss and then, with a deep breath, pulled away and to his side. She snuggled in close, a mirror to how he’d started their night. And it wasn’t long before their soft, satisfied sighs gave way to sweet sleep.

 

 

In the morning, she sensed more than felt him rustling around, but she refused to engage. It was only when she heard him turn on the shower that she perked up. Stretching lazily, she smiled and then padded to the bathroom to join him. The shower stall was open, facing the mirror---something they had already made good use of. Jack was still standing near the sink. His smile was welcoming, and he cupped her elbows and gave her a kiss. “Good morning.” 

“Mmmm,” she breathed him in, placing her hands on his shoulders before running them down his chest. “Good morning.” 

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. It was then that she noticed the markings on the inside of his bicep. Blinking, she pulled back and pressed his arm outward to get a better look. “If found…” she paused and met his eyes. “Jack, what is this?” 

He smiled and turned them so they were both facing the mirror. “Just wanted to make it clear.” 

She blinked again. There, written in ink on her collarbone, just above her chest like a tattoo, was her own name in his scrawl. _Phryne Fisher_. 

“When did you do this?”

 He laughed, and it made his stomach press against her back in a pleasant way. “A while ago. You were dead to the world.” 

Her eyes narrowed, but she still smiled and once again pulled his arm outward. “ _If found, return to Phryne Fisher_.” She read aloud, laughed and shook her head. “Are you planning on getting lost any time soon?” 

He smiled and kissed her neck from behind. “No.” 

“Mmmm. Joining a small band of ruffians down the street?” 

“No.” 

“…don’t stop,” she murmured, staring at their reflection, and he didn’t look away. “And am I to expect that somewhere on my body states something to the effect that if I’m lost I should be returned to Jack Robinson?” 

His hands moved from her waist to her hips. “No, Phryne…” he assured her. “You belong to no one but yourself.” 

Her eyes misted, and her body warmed. She turned in his arms and looped her own arms around his neck. “But you belong to me?” 

“Ah,” he grinned, moving backward until they were in the shower. “If you’ll have me, Phryne." 

She pressed on his shoulders until he hit the shower wall. “Oh I’ll have you alright,” she threatened with a smiling gleam in her eyes.

\--j&p--


	11. Espionage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Espionage was chosen by headfirst.
> 
> Also, there are still a few slots reserved for new players. This is my last call before I start letting people have two words. Let me know if you want to play!

“Yawning already?” Mac teased dryly as Phryne walked in the door and plopped down ungracefully in the nearest chair.

“It’s early and I didn’t sleep well.” She defended crabbily.

“Nightmares?” She asked as she looked up from organizing her notes.

“Quite the opposite. Jack came for a nightcap last night and he was even more more of a tease than usual. All that flirting and not so much as a damn toe against the line. It’s going to drive me mad. The dreams alone... “ She sighed. “They’re all so… vivid.” She shivered.

“You’re a lost cause.” Mac rolled her eyes.

“Oh, Mac. You have no idea. When I woke up this morning, I came faster than you can say Jack Robin…”

“Miss Fisher. Dr. MacMillan. Working hard?” Jack interrupted with the glare of a headmaster catching gossiping school girls in the hall.

“Jack.” Phryne smiled politely as she stood up.

“Inspector.” Mac greeted as she handed him a file and set about her duties.

Phryne half-listened as she watched Jack’s hands cradle the file, remembering with startling clarity what she had imagined those hands doing to her all night long.

Jack was listening intently to Mac’s discoveries and his concentration was causing his lips to curve ever so nicely. It was actually making her dizzy.

“Phryne? Phryne?!” Jack asked, his voice pulling her from her thoughts.

“Sorry?”

When she looked up agin, Jack sighed and handed the file back to Mac with his thanks but she couldn’t miss the disappointed look on his face as he headed out the door.

“Sleepless night.” Phryne excused as she walked more quickly than usual to keep up his pace.

“So I heard.” He said coldly and Phryne’s glance back to Mac’s office was not missed by him. “I don’t expect complete professional decorum, Miss Fisher but some level of attention would be appreciated while you’re working on my case.” He headed for the door.

“Jack…I’m not one of your constables, you can’t just walk away when you are done talking… Jack stop!” She yelled loudly and the noise caused him to stop and stare, appalled by her behavior. He huffed as he walked over to her and pulled her into the nearest empty room and slammed the door behind them.

“What is wrong with you?” He whispered harshly.

“Me?!” She asked petulantly.

“You’re behaving like a child.”

“I’m not the one listening at doorways, playing at espionage.”

“If you weren’t so obscenely cavalier about your escapades with other men, I wouldn’t have overheard it! No wonder you’re exhausted, he couldn’t have arrived before midnight. I don’t know where you find the time to juggle us all.”

“Another man?” She was completely taken aback. “There was no other man, Jack. You’re the reason I couldn’t sleep last night. I spent the entire night tossing and turning dreaming about you! So if you have complaints about my effectiveness, you can direct them to yourself, thank you very much.” She tried to storm past him to the door but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in for a kiss strong enough to shut her up.

The dam broke.

And it broke hard.

And while Phryne had, on occasion, found herself completely dressed aside from her knickers and a few popped buttons of her blouse, being roughly handled in an inappropriately public space, she would bet that Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson had never lost himself in a moment like this and the fact that she was the one to break him turned her inside out.

His trousers were undone and his hat was long gone but his open trench coat covered their indecency nicely as he took her against a medicine cabinet, the glass bottles rattling behind her with every hard thrust of his hips.

She was so overwrought with years of built up sexual tension that it didn’t take long until she was gasping quietly into his neck but she managed to hold him tight as he shuddered through his own climax.

He was still panting when he glanced up to meet her gaze, the storm in his eyes lessening, but no less intense.

“Hi.” She greeted him for the first time in this new world.

“Hi.” He murmured.

She straightened her skirt as Jack buttoned up his trousers. She glanced down at her blouse and decided she could just get away with buttoning up her coat.

“Sorry.” He winced, realizing what she was doing.

“Don’t be.” She smiled as she straightened his tie, wiped the lipstick from his chin, and smoothed the lapels of his jacket. She picked up his hat and placed it on his head, tilting it in the way that made him look 20 years younger. “There.” She stepped back. “You’re a brand new man.”

He was staring at her in a peculiar way when someone called her name from the hall.

“Phryne? Phryne?! Phryne!”

“I have to go.” She explained and she made her way towards the noise.

Phryne awoke with a start to find she was back in Mac’s chair and Mac’s fingers were on her wrist.

“Welcome back."

"Sorry?"

“You passed out. You have a fever, you’re shaking. You’re sick, Phryne.”

“I don’t get sick.”

“Phryne, listen to the Doctor.”

Jack’s rare use of her first name made her turn to him for the first time since waking. He looked extremely concerned and that was enough for her to take it seriously.

“The Inspector is going to take you home and I’m going to stop by in a few hours and check on you.” Mac promised.

“Let’s go.” Jack held her up by his arm, another arm slid around her waist.

“The medicine cabinet.” She paused, remembering the bottles in her dream. “Jack, the Doctor’s medicine cabinet. You need to check it.”

“We will.”

“The glass bottles. Something about them wasn’t right.”

“I promise I will look into it. Now, Mr. Butler is waiting.”

“Are you upset with me for fainting?” She asked as he practically carried her to his car.

“No, I’m not upset. Concerned for you. You gave us quite a fright.” He explained his serious face.

“In my dream, we were fighting. You called me unprofessional. But then we made up very nicely in an empty office.” She murmured.

She could have sworn she saw Jack pause minutely in his actions as he placed her gently in the backseat.

“It was just a dream.” He replied.

“Aren't they always?” She sighed as she fell asleep again.


	12. Articulate

Today's word is Articulate, chosen by Firesign23. I took it in the verb sense, as in "to articulate" or to speak clearly about something. This one is a teensy bit angsty, but she likes that kind of thing! It's an alternate ending to 2x12. What if, instead of Jack going to Phryne's house, she is at his house? Can they articulate how they feel? Will they end up in bed?

Spoiler alert. Yes. (but that's why we're all here, isn't it ;) !!)

 

\--j&p--

 

He dropped Rosie off at her sister’s and then somehow made his way home, stunned and trying to keep his eyes open against the misery of the day. He parked his car and when he finally made it to his front door, he froze at who was sitting outside, waiting for him.

“Phryne…” he rasped, her name spilling out, his voice shaky even to his own ears. She watched him, her eyes luminous in the nighttime darkness. “I’m not sure I’m up for company, Miss Fisher.”  

“I’m not company,” she replied softly, coming up to stand in front of him. “I’m your…friend.”

The words floated between them, and he considered his next move. He was glad to see her; she was a balm, but for a wound he didn’t want her to see. She was between him and the door, and rather than step around her, he merely motioned toward it. To her credit, she didn’t smirk or brag but just turned and led the way to the front door.

She paused and stepped aside to let him use his key in the lock, and he watched her from the corner of his eye as she entered his home for the first time and pretended not to examine everything she could. Her not-so-nonchalant style made him smile, but he hid it when she turned to face him.

“Where did Rosie end up?” she asked, removing her overcoat and scarf. Though he was her host, she took care of hanging them both on the coat tree near the door.

“Her sister’s.” Jack cleared his throat. “I drove her.”

“Of course,” Phryne met his eyes, though there was no challenge to her words, only acknowledgement. Yet he still felt a small need to defend himself.

“She just needed some company. I’ve never seen her like that. She…wasn’t herself.” Her parting words to him hadn’t been pleasant, but he was determined not to bring that up.

“She needed _you_ ,” Phryne surprised him by contradicting his words and stepping closer, placing one bare hand against his forearm. “ _Jack Robinson_.” He watched as her lips formed the shape of his name, sensed her fingers tightening slightly and felt the way her confidence washed over him.

“The man who always does the right thing,” she continued. “The noble thing.”

Again, there was no condemnation in her tone, only soft praise. Her eyes were lovely and kind, and her words were like a spring rain to his soul. But suddenly he didn’t want to be that person. He didn’t just want to be the noble man. He’d done that with Rosie, time and again. And even tonight as she’d gotten out of his car, she’d hinted that if they’d been able to work things out, she wouldn’t be in this position. Her logic was flawed, and he hadn’t gotten into it with her. But it had nagged at him, and now…now he wanted to take what he wanted, when he _needed_ it and _wanted_ it. He stepped forward. Then again. Phryne’s eyes widened, and just as suddenly her back was against the foyer wall and his hands were bracketed on either side of her shoulders.

“Not always, Miss Fisher.”

Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to moisten them. He groaned and leaned forward, feeling her hands grip his elbows just as his mouth touched hers. He groaned again, _oh the taste of her._

She gripped his arms but otherwise remained still, letting him take the lead as he nipped and tasted her mouth.

It was so good, so freeing. In his early life, he’d dreamt of a family. A woman who loved him. It hadn’t worked out how he intended, and for years he’d let his heart grow hard to it. There was a time when it hurt too much to feel, and he’d had two choices; harden his heart or hurt all the time.

But his relationship with Phryne, even just a working one, had thawed him from the inside out. He’d begun feeling again, hoping again. Not for a traditional family necessarily, but to find someone who valued him. “Phryne,” he moaned, one hand cupping the back of her neck, holding her steady as their kisses grew rougher, a plundering. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, tugging her in tight. Her fingers clutched his shoulders, digging in, and he relished the freedom between them.

But after a moment, she pulled back. They stared at one another for a second before she spoke. “Do you want me?”

Jack blinked. “Yes,” he swallowed. “Yes, of course I do. Phryne--,”

She cut him off with a finger against his mouth, but her eyes were still soft and kind. “I mean me. Not just comfort or sex. But _me_.”

It was an honest question. His head ached, but it was nothing compared to the way his heart pounded in fierce energy and painful expectation. "Yes. Phryne.” He caught her wrist and pulled her hand over his heart. “How can I convince you?”

She just took his hands into hers and held them between them. Her thumbs caressed over his palms, and she met his eyes. In them was a spark of vulnerability so intense that it took his breath away.

\--j&p--

Keeping his hands in hers, she led him to his living room and to his couch. He sat, and she clasped their hands between them, sliding them down the front of her body, watching as he shifted on the couch. Phryne allowed her knees to rest on either side of his, moving even closer to him.

"Phryne…" he rasped again, and she felt the way his hands tightened in response over her breasts. Even through the blouse and bra she wore, a warmth radiated over her skin at his touch. She moved his hands from her chest down to her waist, letting them cup along her hips. Still, all the while, her hands remained on his, guiding him, giving him permission to accept what he wanted. His eyes were so dark, but she didn't look away, and instead lowered his hands to the hem of her skirt. Phryne shivered hard at the feel of their fingers along her bare legs, and her breath became very uneven as she moved two of his fingers to the bottom seam of her underwear.

Jack's other hand clenched to the inside of her thigh, and Phryne's fingers tangled in his.

"You're wet" he gasped, sliding two raspy fingertips over the front of her panties.

"Yes, " she confirmed, unable to prevent the quick forward movement of her hips in reaction to his touch. "For you. For your touch."

His eyelids lowered for just an instant, and then his eyes opened, even darker than before. Phryne took a chance and moved her hands from beneath her clothes. Incredibly pleased when he allowed his to remain, she began to work the buttons on the front of his waistcoat and white dress shirt. Once that was completed, she moved the fabric over his wide shoulders. "For these…" she admitted, running her hands over the muscles of his shoulders. "For this…" His chest was wide and smooth, and her fingers skated gently over his nipples.

Jack's hips arched off of the couch, ever so slightly, as her fingers skipped down over his taut stomach muscles to the darker trail of hair that led to his waistband and below. "For this…"

She buried her face in the strong curve of his neck and inhaled deeply. "I've been wanting to feel your hands on me for a long time" she admitted in a soft whisper. "Because I've known how good it will be."

Her lips pressed against his jaw and his cheek before she turned her face the rest of the way and then her lips were only a millimeter away from Jack's. For a moment, they were both suspended in awareness. Mingling soft breaths, her hands on his shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against the evidence of how good it was already.

And then Jack took the initiative and moved the last inch needed to kiss her. Mutual sighs of acceptance coursed between them and Phryne let her hands move to cup the back of his head. Her body settled more on his lap, his hands still cradling in between her legs.

Just as the tip of his tongue touched the tip of hers, his index finger tapped against her clit and a harsh shudder wracked through her. She pulled back and closed her eyes in ecstasy but opened them wide when he grabbed one of her wrists and then cupped her hand over the tight ridge of his pants. "I _want_ you, Phryne. I want _you._ And I want your hands too. All over me _."_

"Yes…" Phryne crooned, massaging him in her palm. His groan reverberated between them, and he tugged her closer before wrapping his arms around her.

With a grunt, he stood and began carrying her back to his bathroom, kissing her all the while.

Phryne gasped as her bare legs met the top of his sink, and she wrapped her legs around him, keeping him close, even as her hands were now available to start tugging at his pants. "Why aren't we in your bed?"

"Mmmm…" his teeth bared against her neck as his hands worked under her blouse. "It’s been a long day and I want to clean up a bit first.” He worked the rims of his teeth so gently against her neck and jawline. "I've got to clean up for you."

She breathed in his rugged scent, even more concentrated against his bare skin, and sucked at his neck. "I like you a little bit dirty."

A harsh laugh and moan rose from his lips, and he pulled back, pressing his hands to the sink on either side of her legs. "Don't move" he commanded in a low whisper. Then he turned and, rotating the knob, started the pounding spray. He looked at her and stripped out of the rest of his clothes. "I'm going to take a shower," he insisted, and then he held out a hand toward her. "Join me."

Phryne eyed his open palm and felt the memory of his rough but sensitive touch against the inside of her thighs. She peeled off the rest of her clothing and then placed her hand in his, keeping their eyes locked as she followed him into the hissing shower.

"Ah…" Jack rolled his shoulders back against the water before turning her so that she was under the spray. When his hands caressed her hips, Phryne knocked them away.

"No, Jack…" she began to run her fingers up and down his back. "Let me…"

His face went slack as she pulled his hands in hers again and settled them over her bare breasts. The feel of the water trickling over her shoulders, combined with his fingers, made her thighs part in anticipation. Jack growled and pushed her back against the shower wall, inserting one of his legs between hers. He captured her mouth with his, but let her control his hands.

She arched against him, rubbing her breasts in his palms, working his thumbs over her aching nipples. He didn't wait for her permission but used his index fingers in tandem, gently tugging on her, rubbing and teasing in the same rhythm as he kissed her. Phryne's head fell back against the shower wall with a thunk, and her hands grasped at his shoulders before she slid them up his neck and clasped his face.

Her eyes opened and she examined him, gently rubbing her fingertips over the small but present furrow in his brow. It soothed out, and she felt something unravel in her gut at helping this man.  Pain, gone.

Lifting up on her toes, she pressed her lips against his forehead, skimming her lips down his cheek to the cleft of his chin. "Jack…" 

His hands settled against her hips and then her bottom as he stepped closer, moving both of his legs between hers. It was a dominant move, but in that moment, he was submitted to her soft and gentle touch. He rested his forehead in the spot where her neck met her shoulder and began to nibble little kisses against her sweet skin.

Her thighs parted around his and she rubbed up and down his back. He pressed his lips to hers in as desperate a kiss as she'd ever experienced. "I need…" his face turned to the side in emotional pain. "I need you to let me show you how I feel."

"Yes…" she nodded gently, her fingers forming into fists for just one fraction of a second before she relaxed, leaning back against the wall. "Yes, Jack. I trust you."

His breath left him in a rush, and his hands moved her hair away from her face, his fingers tangling in the wet strands. "Thank you," he whispered, and she'd never seen a more genuine expression on any other person's face. It resonated in her being, and she understood that now that they'd articulated how they felt he was as incapable of putting additional words to it as she was.

That gave her great comfort as he touched her. He didn't say anything, just ran his fingertips down the slopes of her shoulders, measuring. He tracked droplets of water over her elbows and forearms. The water caused a slight friction, and his warm hands cupped her wrists as he leaned over and placed his lips against her collarbone. It was sensitive to his touch. Every inch of her was sensitive to his touch, she discovered, as his mouth moved over her body. Tender kisses against her breasts, warm suckles against her belly, soft nips against the insides of her thighs.

Phryne tried to relax as best she could and pulled her hands from his, needing to regain some control. But he didn't seem to mind and instead just placed his hands on the backs of her legs as his lips ghosted over her sensitive skin. His kisses grew longer and closer to the core of her.  "Jack…" she placed her hands on his shoulders. "Please…"

He looked up and met her eyes and then stood when she bent toward him. Jack closed his eyes when she trailed her own hands over his chest. "I need you." She murmured and leaned in to press her own series of kisses along his jawline. "I need all of you."

He stared at her. And then came a smile. A little shy. A whole lot sexy.

His mouth found hers and she sucked his tongue into her mouth, feeling him start in surprise. Then he eagerly deepened the kiss. His delight in her desire pleased her as well. Jack cupped her breasts for a moment before sliding his hands to her waist. He slid two fingers between her thighs, gently stroking and murmuring at how wet she was. Normally a comment like that might make her roll her eyes, but from Jack it was honest, growly, _arousing._

“More,” she begged, arching up to her tiptoes as he entered her with his fingers, easily stroking inside her core. He groaned against her mouth and let his palm cup her clitoris. Phryne gasped and leaned in, her fingernails sinking into his shoulders as he went deep, touching her in the right spots. It was so good, and _yet_.

“Wait,” she pressed on his biceps and he paused. “I want… _you_ ,” she bit her lip as even the words made her inner muscles contract against his fingers. He slowly moved them out of her body and then took himself in hand. His dark hair was slickened to his forehead, curling in the damp heat of the shower. His chest and shoulders were reddened with arousal and need. The hair on his chest was sexy, leading down in an arrow toward his stomach, where his abdominal muscles worked and flexed, and further to where he gripped the firm, throbbing length of his cock. Even in this, he was steady and sure.

“Like this,” he settled himself at her entrance, and she nodded.

But no amount of conversation could have prepared either of them for the feeling of being joined with the other.

A harsh groan fell from his lips, and her fingernails tightened on his shoulders as his thick rounded head came to rest at the very end of her core. How could they have known that the perfection they'd thought it would be was nothing compared to the reality of the exquisiteness of being in each other's arms.

"Kiss me…" he nipped at her lips, and she complied, wrapping her arms around his neck and one leg around his waist. His hands settled at her hips and he began to rock forward, and back.

"More, more, more, more," Phryne pleaded, following his rhythm. "More of you, Jack. I need more of you."

"All of me" he groaned, quickening his thrusts. "You have all of me. I promise, Phryne."

"Oh!" She gasped, giving herself over to the pleasure. 

In and out he thrust, his fingers growing rougher as they squeezed her bottom, finding purchase in the soft curves there.  The friction made her mindless, and she lit up like a spark. She came around his cock in rippling waves, burying her face against his chest and moaning his name.

“Phryne!” he cried out, the low register of his voice resonating against her cheek and in her heart. Her name flew again and again from his lips as he pressed into her three times in rapid succession before she felt the warm coating of his seed within her. His chest rose and fell, and his arms tightened around her as he came down from the high. 

Soft sighs mingled with harsh breaths, sleek legs slid against his muscled ones, pale curves rested against dark muscles. "Stay the night?” he murmured into the side of her neck, and she nodded, slipping her fingers into his damp hair.

On unsteady legs, they both managed to exit the bathroom and dry off before collapsing onto Jack's bed. He held her in his arms after pulling bedding up and over them, and they settled into a state of relaxation. “Jack,” she curved up to his side. “What is different about tonight?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “But I think it’s about being honest. Today was…hard,” he swallowed, and she nodded. “But also…if you hadn't literally been at my door, I’m not sure…” he paused. “No, I think ultimately I would have ended up at your door. I don’t think I could have just stayed silent. I would have wanted to see you. To be near you.”

She smiled. “Well, I’m glad I was here then. Mary had her baby tonight, so there is a lot of crying happening there.” He chuckled at her dry tone. “And Aunt Prudence is there too. She always had an uncanny knack for interrupting my dates.” She shuddered and then tapped his bare shoulder decisively. “ No, it's settled. It would have been too risky.”

“God forbid,” he replied, and the sincerity of his tone made her laugh. And her laugh made him smile. Soon they were snuggled into the bed, staring at one another. Happy. At peace. Hopeful.

\--j&p--


	13. Confer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s word is confer, chosen by Suigeneris221B

 

God was punishing her. Not that she could blame him, she had it coming. 

“Take that to the station.” Jack bellowed, taking charge of the crime scene and looking every bit in charge and commandeering.  He had always been a man who knew what he wanted and right now, watching him swagger around his men, she wanted him to want her. 

Jack had basically given her free reign to sleep with other men (or at the very least told her that he’d meant what he said about not changing her to suit his needs) but she’d been unable to follow through. Whenever she was with a man, she always ended up thinking about Jack instead. He was the standard for every kiss and touch. Everyone else fell short. In fact, even when she was alone, she  _ had _ to think about him in order to finish. And needing him that much made her angry and she’d taken it out on him by starting a fight that he’d done nothing to deserve. So he’d been staying at his own house for days and she’d been too proud to explain and they’d both been wallowing in their frustration.

She waited patiently for him to finish giving orders before she made her way over to him. 

“Miss Fisher, I should have known you would be attracted to this case like a bee to honey.” He sighed, trying hard to maintain a professional demeanor. 

“A woman has to make a living.” She smiled too sweetly. 

“Yes but you don’t.” 

His chilling accuracy succeeded in stunning her for a moment and she took a step back.

“Perhaps you should let this one pass you by.” He added more carefully. 

“And why would I do that?” She asked, folding her arms stubbornly. 

He debated his answer.

“Jack…” She tapped her toe, fully prepared to fight him. 

He looked over at his men and pulled her aside by her bicep.

She was about to swat him away when he moved within whispering distance of her ear to confer in private.  A chill shuddered down Phryne’s querulous body. 

“Look, I know that I don’t have any authority over you or your business but I have men undercover and it is  _ my _ business to protect them, so I’m asking you to leave it alone. Please.” He begged, his light eyes looking sharply into her own. 

“Fine.” She relented, unable to process an argument when she could feel his body heat radiating against hers in the cool evening air.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely as his hand dropped from her arm. 

“And for what it’s worth, you have the most authority over me.” Phryne confessed. “Not that you’d ever think to use it.” 

Jack gave her a warning glare, not wanting to have that conversation while he was working, but she saw the flash of understanding in his eyes. Her point had been made. 

“If you change your mind about either subject, you will find me at home.” She informed him as she sashayed back to the Hispano, trying desperately not to look back. 

OOOOO

Jack entered Wardlow without knocking. He glanced in the parlor and when he didn’t see her, he headed up the steps.

“Phryne?” He bellowed. 

She managed one foot out into the hallway before he whisked her into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him and kissing her savagely. 

“Jack.” She gasped his name in his ear as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. 

“Fight’s over.” He pushed her back against the wall and rattled the picture frames on either side of her head. 

“Yes…” She moaned her agreement as his mouth went down her neck, devouring her available flesh. Phryne tore at his fly, wanting him inside her as soon as possible. As soon as she was able to free him from his slacks, her hand was stroking him hard and fast. 

“God damn it.” He hissed through his tight jaw. He pulled her wrist from him in a desperate attempt to gain control of the situation and turned her to face the wall.

“Get inside me.” She demanded, even from underneath him and suddenly, Jack didn’t care who had control. 

He tugged her smalls to the side and speared himself inside her wet, hot body. He buried his face into her shoulder, inhaling the smell of her french perfume as he thrust into her over and over again, hell bent on sending them both into the stratosphere. 

It was rough, fast, and mind-numbingly satisfying and when it was done, they were both left panting and dazed, not quite sure what had occurred. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked as he found his words again. 

She shook her head. 

“Released me.” She countered as she turned around. 

Jack paused to analyze the meaning behind that statement. 

“I meant what I said today, Jack. As long as I have you, I don’t want or need to be with anyone else. If you do,” she held up her hand before he could protest the thought, “I won’t stop you, but I wanted you to know so we could avoid any further confusion. ” She lowered her hand. 

“There won’t be anyone else.” He promised in return. 

“There could be.”

“There won’t.” He repeated seriously and she believed him. 

“It's settled then. We’re officially a monogamous couple.” She tried the words out for the first time.

Jack smiled knowingly.

“I’ve always been better at actions over theory.” She excused before he could comment on her struggle to say the words smoothly.

“Then let's stop talking.” Jack agreed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a long kiss. 


	14. Dawn

Today I am cashing in my "author's choice" card, with a chappie called "Dawn". We're more than halfway there!

 

 

A noise woke Jack, and he squinted toward the clock on the side table to see it was nearly 4 AM. He slid his legs over the side of the bed and winced at the stiffness in his back. But as he remembered his arrival to England and the night that had ensued, a smile curved up his lips as he started to walk toward the door.

"Jack?" he heard, and he turned around, almost gasping at the way Phryne looked in her bed. Long limbs and pale skin against her sheets. Her eyes were closed, and Jack wondered if she was even awake or if she'd just mumbled his name at his absence.

"I'll be back," he promised before sliding from her bedroom and making his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Standing at her sink, he sipped the water and considered what had happened between them _. Sex._

Sex is what had happened. An incredible beginning of mind numbing pleasure. Of frantic thrusts into liquid heat. The first of many, he hoped.

From where he stood, he heard a slight noise outside, a brushing of a branch against a window, the stirring of birds ready to awaken the dawn. His body resisted the idea, wanting the darkness outside to remain for as long as possible. He was normally a morning person, but he wanted this night to be twice as long, and the realization propelled him back to the bedroom, back to Phryne. 

The sight there made him catch his breath. The moonlight from the windows slipped over her naked skin, and she rested on her side, just as he'd left her. Her eyes were nearly completely shut, but when he walked toward her, she smiled, and he knew she was watching him from beneath her heavy lids.

"Top or bottom," she asked in a husky voice. Her smile was impossibly both sleepy and saucy, and Jack felt his stomach drop at this new reality. 

"Neither," he offered, joining her.

"What?" she murmured, watching him as he moved over her on the bed.

Jack chuckled and situated himself behind her, completely spooning her body against his front. "Up you go," he encouraged softly, wrapping one large hand around her smooth thigh and lifting it up. His palm slipped down her leg until he was cupping her knee, and he gently nudged her leg backward, comfortably situating it over top of his.

Phryne closed her eyes against the luxurious feel of him pressed so deliciously against her. He was all long and lean and muscled and so amazingly hard. Between her legs, she felt his penis lengthen and began to rub him, caressing the underside of his shaft with her hand and the head of his cock with her wet folds.

"Mmmmmm," Jack moaned appreciatively, laying soft kisses along her bare shoulders. "I've thought about this," he confessed, then paused, wondering if the admission was too much.

"Me too," she admitted, and he breathed a sigh of relief, moaning again when the tip of him slipped just inside her core. His hand landed on her hip and he held her still as he moved inside of her in one long, slow thrust.

"Ohhhhhhh," she arched forward, loving the slide of him deep within her. When he pulled out, she arched back against his chest and hips, following his every inch.

The rhythm between them was so natural and fluid and Jack continued to press kisses against her back and shoulders. One soft kiss landed against the back of her neck, and Phryne shivered, her hand clamping on his. She instinctively squeezed her muscles around him and Jack grunted, shoving into her and quickening their movements. His teeth grazed her earlobe as his cock pummeled inside of her. The delicate balance between the pain he could inflict to her neck and the pressure between her thighs was making her light-headed.

"Yes, Jack, you feel so good. I've…so good," she cried out, rocking back and forth with his every thrust. "Better than I ever imagined."

Damn, that turned him on. Jack swept his hand over her hip, settling it against her stomach before letting it slide all over her body. From his position, he had free range to her entire front and he plucked at her nipple, letting his lips seal to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. He gently pulled her nipples while he sucked hard, only coming up for air to groan when he felt her get even hotter and wetter around his desperate cock.

"Oh, Phryne, you're like a fucking dream come true," he gasped.  She clenched around him and he tensed, on the verge of exploding so hard. "Phryne, _hell_ ," he rasped, pressing his hand to her belly before thumbing his way over her clit, strumming it in fast strokes and presses. "Please, tell me you're close, because I'm about to come."

"Yes!" she swiveled her hips back toward him, increasing the friction all around him.

"Fuck yes, don't stop" he begged, keeping up his end of the bargain. His hips pistoned forward at a ridiculous pace while his thumb worked in counter motion against her clit. He brought his index finger down and then trapped her clit between it and his thumb, working her fast and furiously.

"Yes, yes, yes," tripped from her lips as she squeezed him tightly. Jack felt her shatter all around him and gave himself up to it. Gave himself up to _her,_ to _them._

"Phryne, Phryne, Phryne, Phryne…" he moaned her name like a prayer as he emptied inside of her.

"Jack," she whimpered, her fingernails biting into his thigh. Soon her hand covered his. She moved it from between her thighs and pressed it against her stomach, letting him feel her breathing against his palm. It was such a comforting gesture, yet he was the one gaining comfort from her nearness. He had so much he wanted to say to her, but he knew there was time. For now, all he could do was murmur her name as sleep overtook them both once again.

j&p


	15. Bland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ollyjay chose the word “Bland”.

Phryne hadn’t taken her eyes off her quiet policeman since he’d walked through the door. He was always thoughtful, but tonight, his thoughts seemed to take over, preoccupying his normal dinner conversation and nightcap banter.

“Is everything alright, Jack?” She asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him but wanting to make sure he was feeling well. 

“I apologize, Miss Fisher.” He shifted, clearly feeling called out. “I’m afraid I’m not the most charming of dinner guests this evening.”

“No one is asking to be entertained, Jack.” She pointed out as she got up to refill her drink. “I’m perfectly capable of sitting here in silence if that's what you’d prefer but you don’t seem quite yourself.”

“I suppose not.” He agreed. 

“Is it work?” She asked over her shoulder as she poured.

“No.”

“Mm. Personal.” She gave the word the heavy importance it deserved as she put the lid back in the bottle. When she turned around, he nodded his confirmation. 

“And it’s something you don’t want to discuss with me.” She confirmed, despite her curiosity. She knew Jack was a private man and that a perceived invasion of that privacy would only make his walls taller and thicker.

“You’ll never solve the case if you give up that quickly.” Jack scolded her as he pulled her down onto his lap. 

“But if I push too hard, I’ll lose everything I already have.” She murmured, fear tinging her attempt to play along.

“Do you believe that?” He asked, surprised by her response.

“I fear it.” She reworded his question. “You’re a private man, Jack. You’ve always compartmentalized your life. It’s not in my best interest to test any more of those boundaries than I already have.”

He sighed and she played with his tie as he collected his thoughts. 

“I don't want that, not with you.” He decided. “I want us to be able to talk about things.”

“What kind of things?” She encouraged him to talk to her. 

“Anything. Everything.” He replied. “Tonight is the anniversary of my wedding to Rosie.” 

Phryne sighed, not at liberty to utter a single word on the subject.

“I’ve been thinking about that naive young man with boundless energy and ambition, who was going to climb the ranks, make a life for himself and a family. That boy, and those dreams, died on a field somewhere in France.”

Phryne kissed his temple and he closed his eyes. 

“You’re allowed to grieve what might have been, Jack. You lost more than most.”

“I feel guilt, not grief.” He corrected her assumption. “I’m not grateful for the war, nor a second I spent in it, but I don’t regret how it changed my life. It saved me from a bland life and a marriage that I would have grown to resent. It brought me down the path that led to you.” He touched her thigh lovingly. “You’re the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. What if I had walked right past you?” 

Phryne had never stopped to consider what might have happened between them if Jack had been properly married when they met. It was hard enough falling in love with the recent divorcee.

“You didn't.” She reminded them both as she moved to straddle him. “I’m right here, and so are you.” She placed her hands on his chest to feel his heart beating. “And now that we’ve found each other, we won't be quick to let go, will we?” 

“No.” He agreed, running his hand across the small of her back before using the leverage to push her closer to his lips. He kissed her sweetly but the intimacy of the moment charged through the air and the slow kiss suddenly became heavy with desire. 

Phryne felt his hands slide up her dress, stroking her thighs. She bit at his jaw and sucked on his earlobe, making him hiss. 

“Jack.” She gasped against his lips as he tore her lingerie off with a hard tug. 

“I need you.” He murmured roughly.

“Take me.” She encouraged, rubbing herself harder against his hard length. He reached between them and undid his trousers quickly. She raised herself only enough to let him slide them to the floor and then she speared herself onto him. 

They both threw their heads back in elation before Phryne began to set a rhythm that was slow and deep. Jack’s hands held her hips steady under her dress, pushing her down to the hilt with each swivel of her hips. 

“Oh…” She hummed, imagining his white knuckles hidden from her view. 

She kissed him as she moved over him faster, wanting to feel him in the deepest recesses of her body. 

“Phryne,” he whispered hoarsely, “oh fuck, Phryne, I need you.” He buried his face in her breasts and she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her hands in the back of his hair. 

“You have me, darling.” She promised as she caressed the back of his neck and his shoulders. “You have me always.” She bit her lip as she fought off her climax. 

Jack looked into her eyes and she leaned her forehead down against his and he let go with a long moan. His climax triggered her own and she shivered above him in ecstasy as he pulsed inside her. 

“Oh, Jack.” She let her head fall to his shoulder as she clutched at his waistcoat for purchase. 

“I love you.” He whispered in her ear as he rubbed her back gratefully. 

“I love you.” She repeated, sealing it with a kiss. 


	16. Julbock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dispatch finds herself momentarily unable to post, so I'm posting two days in a row. You'll be rewarded for your patience by receiving two Dispatch chapters in a row. Today's word is Julbock, chosen by MissingMissFisher.

Phryne pulled the flute of champagne off the nearest tray and stood in front of him with a poorly hidden discontent that he found simultaneously adorable and unnerving. There was absolutely nothing he could do if she decided to throw a tantrum, aside from possibly whisk her out of the room, and even then, he'd only beat stares if he was very quick. He glanced around to see if anyone else noticed her current state. 

“If I have to listen to one more conversation about the history of the julbock, I’m going to take my golden pistol and shove it up his…” Phryne murmured darkly under her breath.

“Alright. No more champagne for you.” Jack swiftly removed the glass out of her hand with an elegant sweep of his elbow. “Why don’t we have a dance?” He offered, hoping to distract her. 

“You don’t dance.” 

“I dance with you.” He defended as he offered her his hand. 

“You do at that.” She smiled and gave her hand to him. “You know Jack, most people find London society stifles them, I think it’s rather loosened you up.” She commented. 

“Do you?” He asked as he spun her around. “You don’t think it’s the life of leisure spent wandering the streets of London by day and making love to a beautiful woman by night? No murderers or gangs, no bureaucratic red tape, no ex-wives.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” She smiled as she spun again and he pulled her close against him.

“Being in love doesn’t hurt either.” He said simply and he smiled as he felt the breath in her chest catch against his own. 

“Say it again.” She whispered, the greedy look in her eye feeding his confidence by the second. 

“I’m in love with a beautiful, intelligent, adventurous, curious woman who keeps me in a constant state of suspense.” He grinned. “And I’ve never been happier.”

“Neither has she.” Phryne confessed.

Jack grinned, pleased with that information. 

“Come on.” She pulled away from him, but kept his hand in hers. 

“Where are we going?” He asked, unable to resist the temptation of asking.

“Constant state of suspense, remember?” She reminded him as she pulled him out of the ballroom and down the hall. 

She opened the first door she came to and peeked inside before pulling him in after her. 

“Phryne, this is someone’s bedroom.” Jack hissed a warning as she reached into her gown and removed her silk lingerie. 

“They’re not using it.” She grinned as she threw it at him before undoing her dress. 

“I’m locking the door.” He took a weak stand, but a stand nonetheless and she laughed at his decorum. 

“Whatever you say, Inspector.” She played at submissive, even when she was as naked as a jaybird. He let her pull him towards the bed and he sat down on it out of sheer momentum. 

“Too many clothes.” She pouted as she stood between his legs and began to undo his waistcoat. 

“God you’re beautiful.” He commented as he watched her undress him, not bothering to assist her; she got too much joy out of the task. Her hands worked slower than he would have preferred given their secrecy, but there was something sweet in watching her careful work. 

When he was undressed, he pulled her down onto the bed horizontally and she landed on her hands and knees, looking all too alluring to resist. 

“You’re a terrible influence.” He wanted it on the record.

“I don’t think that’s fair. You’re the one who’s going to fuck me senseless on someone else’s bed.” 

“Is that how you want it?” He teased his eager cock, sliding it along her wet folds. 

“God yes.” She purred, arching her back in anticipation. “Fuck me, Jack.” She grinned over her shoulder. 

He took himself in hand and lined himself up with her dripping core and penetrated her slowly, letting himself enjoy the sensation. 

“Say it again.” He paused, his body flush against hers.

“Fuck me.” She challenged and he pulled out and slammed his hips against her pert, pale ass driving himself completely into her. She gasped in delight at the hard thrust and he pulled out slowly, until he was almost entirely out of her body. 

“Again.” He waited. 

“Fuck. Me.” She repeated and he thrust carelessly deep into her again. “Yes. Faster.” She moaned, raising her hips in offering and going down onto her forearms. “Yes. Oh, yes. Just like that. Don’t stop.” She praised as he thrust into her steadily, setting a fast pace that made her cry out in tiny pants of pleasure every time her nipples brushed against the bedding.

“Phryne…” He moaned. “So tight, so perfect.” He couldn’t believe just how perfect she felt around him. His only thought was how delicious it would feel when she came. His fingers that were curled around her hip slid further inward, giving her clit more friction with every hard thrust. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” She screamed as she spasmed wildly around him, completely undone. Her body clenched down hard and Jack went blind as he was milked dry. 

He fell limply from her as his knees gave out and he landed on the bed beside her. 

“Good God.” He muttered, his face numb and lips tingling. The indulgent, self-satisfied giggle that rumbled from her chest kept him conscious as he turned to look at her. 

“My Jack, full of surprises.” She sighed dreamily as she rolled over top of him. 

“Bad. Influence.” He repeated. 

She kissed him briefly before getting up and making herself presentable again. 

Jack watched from the bed as she found her clothes and fixed her hair and makeup in the mirror.

“How do you do that so quickly?” He asked. “I can barely lift my head off this mattress and you look brand new.”

“Practice. A woman needs to be able to change her appearance at the drop of a hat.” She explained simply. “A detective even more so.” She shrugged as she pressed her lips together, finishing her lipstick. 

A rattle at the door made them both freeze. 

Jack sat up on his elbows, slightly panicked.

Phryne held up a finger, demanding silence. 

He rolled his eyes at the unnecessary instruction. 

The intruder moved along and they both let out a sigh of relief.

“You’d better hurry or we might be required to escape through the window.” She took one last look in the mirror. 

Jack dressed quickly himself, managing to slide back into his tux and brush his hair down to a semi-managed state. 

“What do you think? Window or door material?” He asked, holding out his arms. 

“Ruggedly handsome.” She decided as she brushed down his lapels. “I think that gets you at least to the servant’s entrance.” 

“Will it get us back to the flat without suspicion?” He raised the stakes. 

“That depends. Looking like that, smelling like that, I may be required to take you right there in the back of the motorcar.” She refused to make promises she couldn’t keep. 

"I'll take my chances." He replied, feeling quite comfortable with his permanent state of suspense. 


	17. Snap

Thank you @RositaLG for posting two days in a row. To show my gratitude, I’m posting her word of choice: Snap. And you can bet there’s a tie involved. Rated E for Egads, I’m blushing. Especially because The Sound of Music nuns are singing on the tv in the background as I post this!

 

\--j&p—

He understood why every man in the force had to go through mandatory psychiatric treatment. They all did. He understood the haunting look in a man’s eyes, even close to a decade after coming home from the war. He understood why a man couldn’t be undercover for too long. The temptations, the depravity… It was just too much to handle. It could make a man sink into himself if he wasn’t careful.

If anything, it was the depravity that Rosie hadn’t been able to handle. More than the constant overtime, his sometimes sullen attitude, more than the inability to articulate his thoughts…it was that he had an anger, a rage, inside of him that ironically slipped out sometimes when he was at his most vulnerable. 

Phryne didn’t shy away from it. It didn’t bother her that in the heat of passion, his breaking point could mean more aggression than normal. If anything, she relished it when he snapped, when he gave in to his baser nature.

_Snap._

When he ripped a blouse or flimsy piece of lingerie from her body.

_Snap._

When he gripped her hips and nearly tossed her to the bed before following her down and pinning her there.

_Snap._

When he spread or bent her legs just a fraction past comfortable to make more room for his hips.

_Snap._

When he held her wrists above her head. When it wasn’t enough, so he flipped her to her stomach and yanked his tie from around his neck and tied her arms behind her back. When he buried his face between her legs from behind and ate her out, pressing his hands to her back to hold her in place. When after she came, he barely shoved his pants to his thighs before spearing himself inside her. When they both watched in the mirror as he fucked her like that, him practically fully clothed and her in nothing but a pale pink camisole. Her dark hair was like ink against the white sheets, her pale skin matching the silky fabric and her eyes electric in the reflection staring back at them.

His darker hands and forearms strained as he worked himself inside her, the angry red flush of his cock disappearing inside of her with every thrust, each one pushing her further forward.

Leveraging her weight on her shoulders, she spread her legs as wide as she could, giving him a visual he’d only dreamt of, before they’d been together and his darker days had ended with him taking himself in hand and sinking in to the depravity for a few minutes. The power to release. No shame, no guilt, nothing but acceptance to unleash fully.

Her wet cunt gripped him as she came, and he buried deep and held fast, letting her ride it out.

He pulled out and took himself in hand, jerking himself off hard, squeezing his cock. Phryne gasped and stared, and he saw she was as entranced as he was. He wanted wicked, naughty, so wrong it was _oh, so right_.

_Snap._

He came, shooting focused, thick ropes of release against her back. White filth against pale pink silk. Dripping cum against perfect skin. Down her arms to where her wrists were still tied up with the dark blue slash of his tie, leaving it and her soiled and marked.

They were both still for a moment as they caught their breath. He pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades and then freed her arms, rubbing them gently and kissing her shoulder when she turned onto her back. He stared down at her, feeling cracked open, but safe. Her only response was to cup his face with a soft hand, tethering them together once more, reassuring him once again.

\--j&p--


	18. Extraneous

Extraneous, from the awesome suzieq27--- Enjoy!

 

\--j&p--

The music ended, yet they remained in one another’s arms. Softly, he leaned in, and then she leaned in, and in the silence they both acknowledged that the actual music was extraneous. Their physical waltz was a representation of the natural give and take. Their lips met. In that instant, Jack realized that one taste wasn't going to be enough, so he leaned in again…kissing her just a bit longer. And then a third time, and then a fourth, fifth, sixth, each time longer than the one before. Then they were just kissing, with no thought to a count or time. Her hands rested gently against his face, and he smelled her perfume there, and had a vision of her standing in front of her bathroom mirror, dabbing it to the insides of her wrists. Tenderness swept over him, and he wrapped one arm around her back and cupped her head with his other hand, gently leading her to the side room and the soft settee there. 

"Phryne" he whispered in her ear, and caught the scent of her perfume there too. “Phryne…"

Phryne's mind raced, even as her body reacted in passivity to Jack's gentle assault. If she was honest with herself, she also had to admit that she'd never quite expected Jack to ever seduce her, but that was exactly what was happening. His hands were caressing her hips in smooth and softly strong circles, and his lips…oh, his lips were branding her far more effectively. With every kiss, every touch of his soft and warm mouth against her throat and down her arms, Phryne felt her heart rate increase, but her stress level decrease.

In the back of her mind, she knew that it was the middle of the afternoon, and they were in public. The door was closed, but not locked. Anyone could walk in at any moment. Yet none of that added any urgency, and she relaxed, trying to concentrate on the pleasure Jack seemed determined to give her.

Jack kissed her again, trying to absorb the soft moans that were escaping from her lips. He was intoxicated by her, in the way she was so accepting of his touch. He'd never been as in tune with another woman in his life, and he felt honored to be with her. His hands took on a mind of their own and splayed over her waist, his thumbs brushing her skin. When she didn't protest, he began to unfasten her dress, making sure to keep his touch light. After peeling back the material, he leaned down and pressed his lips to the sweet curves between her breasts. Her perfume was concentrated in that spot, and his lips parted against her skin, the soft flush of pink that formed there incredibly attractive to him. Her bra was a dark burgundy, gauzy and silky. It covered her, but was still thin enough that when he cupped her in the palm of his hand, he felt her warmth through the fabric, and in the center of his palm, he felt the gentle press of her nipple.

His slow and light rotation had her squirming slightly, and he covered both breasts with his palms, not squeezing, just rubbing her with the palms of his hands. His lips trailed down to the smooth skin of her belly, the pale white of her skin a contrast to his light brown hands.

Phryne knew about friction; she knew all about what caused it and the balance of electricity. But no scientific formulas reached cohesion in her brain as Jack continued to touch her. That Jack was still completely dressed turned her on. She wasn't a selfish lover in general, but right now, she was enjoying his touch. It was one sided, or so she thought.

But then, he pressed the side of his face against her belly and inhaled such a shuddering breath that she realized Jack was receiving as much pleasure as she was, if not more.

When his deft fingers loosened her clothes and removed them the rest of the way, her fingers slid to the back of his neck. It was an intimate moment for both of them. And Phryne realized she was also branding him as hers.

Jack felt like he was in a dream. The way she was allowing him to give her pleasure was surprising, but he wasn't complaining. He'd imagined it, of course, but then always figured she'd be more aggressive. Her peaceful allowance toward him felt like a gift and he wanted to repay her by making her feel better than she ever had before. She squirmed under him, her hips beginning a circular rotation. Jack took her cue and continued kissing her while pressing his palm to her mound, rotating his hand in counter time to her rhythm.

She was warm through her panties, and they were soft and growing wet between them. In her boldest move yet, Phryne reached for his hand and moved his fingers under the bottom hem , sliding two of his fingers through the damp heat there. Jack groaned against her lips and kissed her harder before backing away, looking into her eyes, just to make sure she was with him, really with him.

He'd never seen her look more sure of anything, and she cupped the back of his head with her hand and forced him back down to her mouth, plunging her tongue between his lips, just as his index finger slipped inside her sheath.

He groaned again, and Phryne felt it all the way down to her toes. With no instruction necessary, her partner was about to bring her to orgasm. Fully clothed, and with minimal touching. Just the thought of it sent her closer to the pinnacle, and as if he knew it, he began to work her silky underwear under his thumb, using the fabric as barrier between his calloused thumb and her sensitive clit. The combination of the pressure combined with the silk made Phryne part her legs a bit wider and clamp onto his shoulders with her hands.

"Jack…" she moaned, her first word since he'd kissed her. Where she thought he'd kiss her again, instead, he just looked into her eyes, watching as he concentrated his touch just so. Phryne tipped over into an orgasm so sweet it brought tears to her eyes. "Ah!" she ached all over in delicious release. "Oh my…"

Her words were gone; all that remained was the softly retreating touch of his hand between her legs. With his other hand, he cupped her breast, using his thumb to caress her nipple, now hardened from her orgasm.

She swallowed as she continued to look up into his eyes, wondering with just a tiny bit of fear at this paradigm shift. Her fears were relieved when he helped her put the rest of her clothes back on. Once she was all put together, his eyes swept over her from head to toe, and she knew he was cataloguing how she'd looked before, unwrapped by him, for him.

_He loved that._ Jack swallowed and touched her shoulders. He loved her. "Come home with me tonight," he said, reaching with his hand to cup her elbow.

"Yes," she answered, as simple as that, pulling in a quick breath.

Jack nodded and let his hand smooth down her arm until his fingers were twined with his. They both leaned in until their lips brushed against each other's, a fleeting physical agreement to solidify their words. Jack swallowed and then touched the bottom of her chin. "Come home with me now," he whispered.

Phryne smiled softly and rubbed her lips against the firm line of his jaw. " _Yes_."

\--j&p--


	19. Adjudicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the last week already! Can you believe it? Today's word adjudicate was chosen by aurora_australis.

Jack was snoozing peacefully next to her and she smiled as she took the opportunity to consider him. She wanted to do something special for him, something to spoil him in the bedroom, but she wasn’t quite sure what his preferences were. He didn’t seem to have any. He had made love to her, worshipped her, played with her, and rained fire down over her, but he hadn’t revealed any personal kinks yet. 

Would he like to be teased? Light bondage and blindfolds were easily done. Maybe he’d prefer to be the one in control. She could ask about role-playing, but he didn't strike her as someone who wanted to pretend. He was a real, solid man who liked real things. Sex for him was personal, not fantasy.

He stirred next to her, wrapping his arm tighter across her stomach.

“Why are you thinking so loudly on a Sunday morning?” He asked groggily and she stroked his hair calmly.

“I’m thinking about you and what I can do to better please you in bed.” She whispered conspiratorially.

He pulled away from her hand and sat up on his elbow.

“What?” He looked like it was the last thing on the planet she should be pondering. 

“What you like, your fantasies, things that you’ve always thought about but never tried.” She listed off. “What turns you on?”

“You do.” He said simply. 

“I’m quite aware but there has to be something specific to you. Everyone has something.”

“What’s yours?” He asked curiously. 

“The way you tease me when you make me wait, forcing me to be patient. And your voice.” She touched her chest. “Tie me up, read me a novel, and take your time, Inspector. I’ll be bursting at the seams for you.”

“Noted.” He kissed her pert nipple through the silk of her nightgown and she bit back a sigh. “Although, I expected something a bit more risqué.”

“Trusting you, giving up control, falling into your hands. It's the most incredible sensation I know.” She admitted. “There have been more scandalous things, but with you, that undoes me.”

“What’s the most scandalous thing you’ve ever done?” He asked, truly curious. 

“I suppose that depends on who you ask.” She thought back on her past. “I’ve been a part of some spectacular group sex.” She smiled.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow.  

“In Paris, at the parties, there were no boundaries, especially while intoxicated. If you found someone attractive and began kissing or even making love to them, you did so right in the room. Others would stop and watch. Begin touching their own partners, touching you.” She ran a hand down his back. “Men, women, it didn’t matter.” She watched his eyes flash at the mention of another woman and took note. “You did what felt right in the moment for you.”

Jack’s erection was painfully obvious against her thigh and she shifted so she was above him.

“Would you like to watch me with another partner, Jack?” She got them back to the topic at hand. “Several?”

“Maybe just hear about it.” He touched her. 

“Mm, a story.” She teased. “It depends on where we begin. Women are just so...pliant.” Phryne hummed as she sank onto Jack’s unyielding cock. “Warm, wet, soft.” She licked her lips. “I love to explore women slowly.” 

Jack’s eyes closed.

“Men, on the other hand, are strong, all hard planes and rough hands. But sometimes they can surprise you. When you have a man behind you and a woman in front of you? That’s my favorite combination.”

“Go on.” He encouraged, bucking his hips up to make her move. 

“At some point, it makes no difference at all. Once you close your eyes, hands are hands, mouths are mouths. Blindfold me and let me guess.” She teased and Jack groaned at the image. “A man’s hands on my hips? A woman’s mouth on my breast? A tongue along my folds, fingers sucked into strangers' mouths.” 

“Yes.” Jack encouraged as she hit a particularly good spot. “Don’t stop that.” 

“Hard cocks penetrating warm cunts, warm mouths.” She panted, getting close. “It’s all overwhelming pleasure, bodies glistening with sweat, sliding in and out and over each other, everyone seeking release. Oh, it’s so good, Jack. It’s so good, it’s…..” she let out a strangled cry as she came, shuddering through the intense pleasure her memories created. She felt Jack tense before detonating beneath her and she did her best to stay up right until his waves of pleasure ended. 

As she fell in a heap beside him, Jack pulled her close, kissing her, wanting to feel close to her again. 

“All of that sounds wonderfully sinful, but I’d rather have ten minutes alone with you.” He whispered and Phryne felt her gut twist at his confession. 

“So that’s a no to that one, then.” She checked it off her list.

“No.” He adjudicated with a gravitas she couldn’t begin to muster in their current position. 

She smiled and stroked his jaw.

“I’m a detective too, you know. I’m not going to give up the case.” She warned him and she noticed the sly look in his eye. She raised her eyebrow as she realized that was the point. He was going to get off every time she wanted to try something out on him. He wanted to make her figure it out. 

“I look forward to your investigation, Miss Fisher.” He stated simply and sincerely, but she heard the underlying smugness as he set himself up for months of adventurous and diverse sex. 

“I’m sure you are.” She concurred as she rolled her eyes. 


	20. Negatives

Negatives, chosen by Eara/Earanie. Happy holidays and enjoy!

 

An E-rated  role-play scenario between consenting adults (Jack x Phryne).  

\--j&p—

 

He flipped open the file, and the strips of plastic film slipped against his fingers. He held one up to the light and nearly lost his breath. One strip after the other revealed more and more scandal, but only one thing crossed his mind. He needed to have her. The photo negatives were part of a closed case and instead of filing them away, he pocketed the film. 

He wasn’t the type to procure hired sex, and later, the back of his neck grew warm as he led her up the front walk to his doorway. But that was the only way to have her, and from the moment he’d seen her up on stage performing, he’d been entranced. Phryne Fisher, a courtesan everyone seemed to give a pass. She always managed to escape arrest, and he didn’t know how, nor did he care.

Her lipstick was sinfully red, and she gave him a wry grin as she crossed his threshold. “Nice place,” she looked around, her cocky attitude as much of a turn on as her form-fitting dress. He could see the outline of a garter belt and stockings, and his mouth grew dry already.

“Thanks,” he swallowed, watching as she ran her hand over the back of a chair.

“So where’s the bedroom?” she turned toward him.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by her boldness, but his eyebrows still rose. “You work fast.”

“Time is money, and we should talk about how much of mine you’re planning to pay for.”

There it was; his last chance to back out. Instead, he took her hand and led her back to his bedroom.

“50 per hour, but if you’re nice, I may give you two for 80,” she explained.

“And if I don’t want to play nice?” he asked, surprising himself. He got a flash of amusement in her eyes in response.

“I can work with that too,” she promised, running one painted fingernail down the front of his dress shirt until it caught at the top button of his waistcoat. She unbuttoned it, but left it hanging open before turning before him and, with a speed and agility that took his breath away, she pulled her dress over her head, leaving her in black lingerie.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed, and she glanced at him over her shoulder. Her confident laugh told him he was just another job to her, just another wide-eyed son of a bitch, so easily distracted and manipulated. He was making it easy on her, and a sudden jolt of rebellion rose up. He cupped her hips from behind, intent on making her as mindless as he was soon to be. For a moment, she froze, but then she sank backward into his body a bit, willing for now to let him explore her.

But then she froze again. “You’re a cop?” she asked, noticing his badge on his dresser top.

“Not right now,” he murmured against her neck. “Right now, I’m just a man. Who wants an incredibly beautiful woman.”

“Mmmm,” she gave a practiced purr and he took it personally—she _would_ moan at some point, and it wouldn’t be fake. He needed it to happen. “Nice and slow,” she commanded. But then again, he _was_ paying by the hour.

He settled his hands over her bare stomach and just felt her breathing, aligned the cadence up with his own. Her brow furrowed for a second and she nudged her hips upward as if now trying to move him along. And he realized he had her. Sex was one thing, but he was offering some intimacy, and apparently it wasn’t on the service menu.

In a flash, she turned in his arms, and he barely had time to look at her before she was pressed to his front, wrapping her arms around his neck and capturing his mouth with hers. Incredible. The feel of her fingers sliding through his hair, her breasts pressed against his chest, her thigh hitched at his waist…all of it was more than he’d dreamt of. And he’d dreamt a lot.

He felt like he was dreaming again when she pushed him back onto his bed and moved to stand in front of him, peeling off her bra to reveal the prettiest tits he’d ever seen. Small, high and firm, with berry colored nipples pouting for a suck. He hooked his index fingers in the waistband of her garter belt and tugged her closer, wrapping his lips around her and groaning as her nipples grew rosy and pebbly, exquisitely responsive to his suction.

He could smell her arousal and felt a jolt of victory…he knew she could fake a lot of things, but for now, her body wanted his. It was a matter of pride for him, and he smiled when she planted one knee on the bed, followed by the other until she was straddling him and burying his face in her breasts. Jack obliged, happily, sucking and nipping at her, relishing her lusty groans and the scrape of her fingernails along his scalp and neck. But then he felt her hands on his shoulders and in a flash, she was moving down his body, to her knees in front of him.

“Take off your shirt,” she commanded, already going to work on his belt and trousers. She had them down his thighs, her hand gripping him and her mouth wrapped around the tip before he finished, and he fell backward with a grunted curse, fumbling with his shirt until he gave up to keep from ripping it off.

“Mmmmm,” she murmured appreciatively again, but this time it was inarticulate because her mouth was full of his swollen cock. She pulled off with a hard suck. “It’s nice,” she praised, smoothing her hands up over his hips and his stomach, pushing his undershirt to his chest. “It’s all nice. Why are you paying for it?”

Jack leaned up on his elbows and stared at the vixen between his legs. “It’s complicated” he finally replied.

“It always is,” she answered with a smirk, keeping their gazes pinned as she flattened her breasts against his cock and began licking and nuzzling the underside of the head. The sensitive ridge puckered and the veins in his dick were visibly throbbing. Pre-cum started to gather, and he imagined coming, white release slipping down and cleaning up the lipstick smear she was leaving behind, he briefly considered just letting her finish him off. An expensive blowjob, but she was truly the stuff of fantasies come to life.

As if she knew his thinking, she went back to work, swallowing him down her throat with every suck, cupping his balls and squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. “Phryne. Oh god, Phryne. Oh, fuck me…I can’t…” he fell back and pressed his hands to the mattress for a swift second before sitting back up. “No, wait,” he insisted, his breath harsh to his own ears. “I want…”

Instead of teasing him, she merely sat back and waited.

“I want to fuck you.”

Her eyes flashed and gleamed, and she paused for a second before standing before him. “These off,” he stood as well, running one fingertip against the panties she wore. “But these stay on,” he followed the line of her garter to the top of her stockings.

“Yes, sir,” she teased, but went to work. He groaned as she bent over unnecessarily, giving him a view of a soft, wet pussy. Pinker than her lips and the hard tips of her breasts.

“On the bed. Hands and knees.” He knew he sounded abrupt and probably like every john she encountered, but she brought it out in him. Demanding. Wanting. Taking.

The view was incredible, and he cupped her thighs from behind, staring down at that cock-hungry slit, wet and rosy for him. For his fingers, and for his tongue to start. He stroked her from her opening to her clit, giving a small tap before returning and rubbing just inside her walls. He continued this until her hips started circling. “Time’s ticking,” she rasped, and he laughed.

“Worth it,” is all he said as he nuzzled the inside of her thighs. They were dampening, and he licked. She moaned and he couldn’t take it any longer, burying his face between her legs and devouring her.

  
“Please, please, please,” she begged, moving forward and falling onto her back. “I want _you_ ,” she pleaded. Phryne fucking Fisher, naked on his bed except for black stockings and the rough scrape from his five o’clock shadow on her skin. “Take off your clothes.”

His groin throbbed and his chest clenched. He bet she was used to just getting in, getting fucked and getting out, nudity optional. As different as this was for him, he sensed it was special for her. So he did as he was told, stripping off everything, watching her watch him. When she slid a hand down her body and teased her clit, he licked his lips and stroked himself, gripping hard as her knees fell open. He was tempted to finish this way, to come on her stomach and watch it run in rivulets down her body to her pussy, to see her slip it in to her folds as she rubbed and rubbed and rubbed. But instead he leaned forward, his knuckles brushing the inside of her thigh as he positioned himself at her opening. “Condom?” he asked, willing to keep up the game.

“No,” she insisted, swiveling her hips upward. “Just you. And just me.”

He sank inside, and pressed against her from head to toe, meeting her eyes and beginning a rhythm. She sighed and he fell in deeper, his eyes nearly dropping shut as she wrapped her silk covered legs around his waist and undulated beneath him. “Phryne,” he dropped her name like a benediction.

Her hands landed on his shoulders and she met his hips, screw for screw, plunge for plunge. It was wet and hot and wicked, and so fucking good. It went on and on until he couldn’t take it any longer. His orgasm started at the base of his spine and shot forward, and as he grunted out his relief, she tightened around him and came, the exquisite friction and clutch of wet, quivering cunt around hot, throbbing cock.

They both kept the pressing rhythm, even after they were wrung out; it was too good to stop just yet. But soon their breathing settled, and he collapsed onto her before groaning and rolling to her side. After a moment, she turned to face him, and couldn’t help but laugh at the stunned look on his face. “I see role play suits you, Jack.”

He gave a small shake of his head. “I can’t deny it. That was…”

“Incredible,” she finished. “And…” she teased as she turned and curled up to his side. “I’ll even let you stay the night…”

“Can I afford it?” he joked, and she chuckled against his chest.

“We can work out some agreement, I’m sure.”

“Mmmm,” he agreed.

Phryne leaned back and met his eyes. “What made you decide to give in and try this scenario?”

He eyed her for a moment and then leaned over to his bedside table, opening it up and then pulling out some photographs of her. Phryne laughed when she saw them. “How did you even get these?”

Jack took them back and then pulled her into his arms. “You’d be surprised what comes across my desk.”

“And you confiscated them, did you?” she murmured. “You _are_ wicked, Officer.”

His hands smoothed down her back until he cupped her bare bottom in his large hands. “All for you.”

They smiled and kissed and then started to prove themselves to each other all over again.

 

\--j&p--


	21. Downsizing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Phryne’s birthday! I had a birthday fic written and it was, I kid you not, eight pages with no smut in sight. I’ve reserved it for another post (it may very well be a chapter fic if it continues like this) and I’ve written up a shorter fic instead. Our lovely Dispatch chose the word “Downsizing” before she joined me on this endeavor, so I’m killing two birds and using it as my author’s stone, I mean, choice

Phryne wiped a dusty wrist over her forehead and sat down on a crate.

“Are you sure I can’t assist you in anyway, Miss?” Mr. Butler asked as he handed her a glass of lemonade. 

“No thank you, Mr. B. I have to go through it all anyway.” She looked around at the mess. 

“The Inspector phoned. He said he was leaving the station and expected to be home in time for dinner after all.”

“Oh. Wonderful.” She perked up. “Thank you. Although, I suppose that’s a subtle hint to bathe before he arrives?” She gave him a knowing look as she sat up straighter. 

“I wouldn’t dare it, Miss.” Mr. Butler displaying his usual level of witty comportment before he walked gracefully down the stairs. 

Just as she was shoving the last box into place, Jack’s lumbering footsteps made their way up the steps. 

“Hello.” He looked surprised by the sight she made. “Disposing of evidence?” He asked dryly as he took in the boxes stacked in the hall. 

“Something like that. My parents, in lieu of the financial crisis and my father’s history with money, have decided they are downsizing yet again. This is everything I had left in England. It arrived today with a note that simply read “Moving again. This should be everything.” Signed, Mother and Father in the maid’s lovely hand.” 

“Anything fun from Phryne’s childhood?” He peered in one to see if he could find anything useful. “Is that a school uniform I see?” He grinned mischievously.

“Enough.” She slapped his hand with a rag to keep out of her things and he pouted as he took his hand back. “I need to wash up before dinner and you should join me.”

“You just want to keep my hands and eyes busy.” He accused as she pulled him by his tie backwards down the hall. 

“Is that a problem, Inspector?” She asked as she stopped and he came nose to nose with her. 

“I think I have the time for a momentary distraction. And you’re extremely distracting when you’re covered in dust.” 

“Are you calling me filthy, Inspector?” She inquired, raising an eyebrow. 

“You didn’t know?” He volleyed as he leaned in impossibly closer and the air around them crackled with lust.

“Unless you plan on taking me right here on the hall rug, I suggest we find our way into the shower.” She suggested, although she was willing to let him have her either way. 

Jack took the opportunity to peer down her blouse while he made his decision and her nipples puckered under his gaze. He licked his lips. 

“Ladies first.” He gestured towards the bathroom where the shower stood.

Phryne reminded her body that moving met satisfaction and she spun around and began heading towards the bathroom. 

Jack took a long second to watch her and only followed once she disappeared from his view. 

She turned the taps on indiscriminately, having more pressing matters at hand. She managed to be naked in the time it took Jack to remove his waistcoat and untuck his shirt. Phryne watched him as she stepped into the curtain and drew it closed. 

Jack took the hint and joined her quickly. 

There was barely enough room for both of them in the ceramic rectangle, but closeness wasn’t going to be an issue. She pressed his back into the cool tile, rubbing her body against his as she explored his mouth with her tongue. 

His hands found her ass and squeezed encouragingly.

“Oh.” She pulled away, realizing her folly. “I don’t have any protection.” She murmured. 

“We’ll make do.” He promised blindly, pulling her back to his lips by the back of her neck. He pulled on her hair a little and she freed it by leaning her head back, letting the water run through it as he kissed her neck. She moaned his name as he left his mark on her shoulder. 

“AH!” She screamed as the water flushed cold and she jerked up hitting his forehead with her nose.

“Ow.” He grabbed his head as her nose began to trickle blood. 

“Oh god damn it all.” She muttered as he turned off the water and began examining her.

“Phryne, you’re bleeding.” 

She wiped at the spot with her thumb. 

“Oh, it’s just a little blood. I’ll be fine. How’s your head?” She asked, looking for bruises. 

“It’s had worse.” He grabbed a towel and wrapped her in it and sat her down on the toilet. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He found another towel and slung it around his hips. 

“Honestly, Jack. I’m fine.” She repeated. “Aroused and all the more irritable for being interrupted but fine.” 

He smiled at her and she let a small smirk appear and she shook her head, not wanting to be cheered up. 

“Maybe, once the bleeding stops, we’ll try again.” He chuckled. 

“Are you sure you haven’t lost interest?” She asked. “I may knock you unconscious next time.” 

“Let’s stick to a bed just to be safe.” He bargained as he looked at her nose. 

“How's it look?” She asked and he took the occasion to look her features over entirely. 

“Beautiful.” 

His eyes were doing that sparkling thing they did when he was finding her particularly charming and she crooked a finger, asking him to come closer. 

“Gently.” She commanded and he followed instructions, kissing her sweetly and avoiding her nose entirely. 

“Jack, find me a bed.” She whispered against his lips and Jack picked her up in a carry they normally reserved for life and death situations.

He set her lovingly on her bed and she reached into the bedside drawer for her protection, only to come up empty.

“It’s at your house.” She closed her eyes. 

“You only have one?”

“It’s not like they have multiple uses.” She argued and he sighed.

“Phryne…” He read the room. 

“No, no.” She removed her towel, determined not to let him give up. Their chemistry had been delicious not five minutes ago. It was not too late.

“Phryne…” His eyes betrayed him as they scanned her body out of opportunity more than anything else.

“Do you love me?” She asked.

“You know I do.”

“Would you do anything for me?”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head but he set his right knee next to her hip and then his left, before slowly placing his left hand next to her head, hovering over her.  “But I would at least consider it a moment before telling you no.”  He vowed solemnly. 

“Good enough.” She murmured as he leaned in to kiss her softly. 

“Mmm.” She hummed her appreciation for the kiss. “Would you make love to me if I let you unpack a few of my boxes?” She offered, her fingers playing with the stretch of hair just under his belly button. 

“I think we could work something out.” He said as he moved to settle nicely between her thighs.

“Name your price.”

"No price. Just you." 

She smiled as he gave in to her demands and filled her exquisitely. She watched him work, wanting to commit the moment to memory, before her eyes fell victim to his witchcraft and fluttered closed.

He took her gently, both of them taking their time and when she broke, it was with an unhurried, rippling orgasm that lasted for minutes on end. 

Jack pulled out of her and Phryne wasted no time in pushing him onto his back. She curled her fingers around him and began to stroke, recalling a steady tempo he had once demonstrated for her viewing pleasure. He shivered silently when he came, his head tilting back on the pillow in a way she couldn’t resist memorizing. 

She cleaned him up with one of the towels from the floor and when she was done, Jack crooked a finger, following her earlier actions and she hovered over top of him before leaning in sweetly for her kiss.

"I love you." She murmured, sweeping a section of his wet curls off his forehead. "Even when we're a disaster." 

He chuckled and pulled her tightly to his chest, rubbing slow circles over her back.

"Especially when we're a disaster." He agreed.


	22. Strip Poker

Strip poker, chosen by Cruzergirl/Propangel. Oohlala! 

\--j&p--

 

 

His normally staid face had been breaking out in a wry grin ever since they left the station, and Phryne couldn’t blame him. It had been funny, the way Collins had stumbled through the explanation of what he’d found when the brothel had been raided.

“It was…strip poker”, he’d said, confused. “Apparently--” 

“I understand, Collins,” Jack had held up a hand, mercifully stopping the younger man from having to continue. He’d avoided Phryne’s amused gaze, but now, standing at her mantle, he couldn’t help it. 

“It _is_ remarkable how naïve they are,” Phryne commented, clinking her full glass against his. 

“Mmm,” he agreed and took a sip. “I know they’re young, but I honestly don’t remember ever being that naïve.”

“Nor do I,” Phryne nodded. “Even before the war, I of course had Father and his friends. I would sneak in to the pubs and see all kinds of things.”

“Strip poker?”

“Of course.”

He smiled against his glass and held her with a look.

“And you, Jack?” she asked. “How did you lose your innocence?” 

His neck flushed a bit, but he didn’t look away. “My older cousins. They were always getting into scrapes, and there were so many of us that no one could keep track. We ran around together and got into trouble.”

“Even you?”

He saluted her with his glass but didn’t divulge. 

Phryne sauntered over to the draughts board and began setting it up. Jack watched her and then moved to sit across from her. They were quiet as they began the game, but when he jumped one of her pieces, she responded by delicately removing one shoe. 

His lips parted, and he swallowed, but said nothing as she then made her next move on the board. When he jumped another piece, she removed an earring.

“Clever,” he admired, and she grinned in response. 

“If I’d known we were doing this, I’d have left my overcoat on.” Jack tilted his head toward the entryway. 

“Because you anticipate losing?” 

“Touche," he smiled, his eyes dark.

Soon she was trumping him, and he lost his suitcoat. Then his tie. He noticed her eyes tracing his every movement as he slipped the silk from his neck and let it fall to the floor. 

She lost her second earring, the other shoe, and when he said “crown me,” she one-upped him and removed her blouse & camisole in one move, leaving her topless. His eyes focused on the curves of her breasts and the dark centers of her nipples, straining toward him. 

With a small, smug smile, she won the next few rounds, only needing to lean forward to break his concentration. He lost his shoes and socks, and his waistcoat and shirt. 

He noticed with some satisfaction that Phryne was staring at his arms and shoulders, and he may have flexed them a bit. She lost her stockings, and he lost his belt, and then they both blinked as they realized the game was a draw. Staring at one another, they considered _their_ next move. 

What had begun in fun, in warm friendship and nostalgia for naughtier younger days now grew even more sensually heated. 

His eyes were hooded, and he leaned back in his chair with a quiet confidence. Phryne inhaled through her nose and stood on the exhale, walking toward him. She stood in front of him for a second, but when she went to straddle him, he cupped her hips and stood. Electricity sparked between them as his mouth hovered close to hers. Her hands landed on his ribs, and they both leaned in the last inch to kiss. 

Within minutes they were on the floor, hands grabbing and clutching as the rest of their clothes were eliminated.   

He kissed her everywhere, his mouth hot and demanding. She eventually reached between them and wrapped her hand around his erection. “I want you,” she gasped breathlessly. “Jack.” 

He moved over her, and his biceps bulged as her hand slid up and down his length. She guided him between her thighs and hooked one leg over his hip. His entire body was taut, and when he pressed inside, she arched up, pressing her breasts against his chest before falling back against the rug. 

Jack moved in and out of her. He licked his thumb and pressed it to her clit, gently rubbing. “You’re so beautiful,” he rasped out as he slid deep. “I am about to spend, just looking at you.” 

“I--” Phryne spread her legs wide, making room for his hips and his hand. He thrust hard in time with his thumb, and soon she was coming, “Oh yesss, Jack. So good,” she moaned, her lovely neck tilted back in pleasure. 

He grunted and then growled out her name, pushing inside with a rough plunge and holding still as he jerked and came inside her. 

Soon they relaxed, and he stared down at her. 

“New meaning to ‘crown me’, I think,” she teased, skimming her fingertips against his chest, tangling in the damp hair there. He shivered, but also smiled and kissed her throat. She hissed when she felt him getting hard again. “Oh. _Oh_.”

Jack responded by flipping them over until she was on top and his back pressed to the fancy carpet. “You can crown _me_.” 

She laughed and rocked her hips back and forth and proceeded to do just that.

 

\--j&p--


	23. Unkempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JustMyType chose “unkempt” and my brain immediately jumped in the gutter and began to splash in the puddles.

Phryne was hungover. 

Phryne was hungover and… yep, definitely naked.

Phryne was hungover and naked and on someone else’s rug? 

She sat up and her eyes slammed shut in self-defense as the world spun on an axis she’d never quite seen before. 

A manly sounding snore was emanating from the other side of the couch. She winced at the back of the furniture trying to figure out where a human might spill over the edges and remind her of who she’d been with the night before but nothing came to mind. 

Then, she remembered.

Oh, God did she remember. 

New Year’s Eve. 

Resolutions.

A new decade. 

She caught her reflection in the glass of the cabinet beside her and saw the smudged remnants of her makeup and her ruffled hair. The men’s shirt she’d commandeered from him more out of conquest than desire to cover herself up was currently being used as a blanket. She recalled wearing it like a trophy after they’d finally, finally succumbed to their desire. She crawled to the couch and pulled herself up to peer over it.

Jack slept soundly, quite comfortable on the couch, blanket over him.

Had he won the couch and blanket in a bet? 

She frowned at the memory she couldn’t quite find. 

“Jack.” She nudged his thigh. “Jack.” She hissed a little louder and he awoke with a start. 

“Hmm?” He sat up quickly and immediately groaned and lay down again very gently. 

“We’re naked in my parents’ parlor. We have to go upstairs before they wake up.” 

“It’s still dark.” He reminded her.

“It’s nearly six. They’ll be having breakfast in no time at all. A servant has already tried to unlock the door.” 

When he still didn’t move, she shook him again. 

“Alright, alright. I’m getting up. Slowly.” He tried again, looking positively green as he righted himself. 

“Miss Phryne?” A soft knock on the parlor door made them both close their eyes. 

“Just a moment.” She called out hoarsely. 

“I’ve got robes, miss. For you and the Inspector.”

“Oh, bless you.” She muttered to herself as she tiptoed to the door. She unlocked it and opened it just enough to slide the robes through. 

She put hers on quickly, tightening the sash, before walking Jack’s over to him. 

“Put this on, we can use the servant’s corridor.” 

“Something tells me you’ve done this before.” He looked only semi-disapproving. 

They tiptoed to the back hall and up the stairs, mostly for the good of their own pounding heads. The servant girl gave them a nod of all clear, and they both made it to Phryne’s bedroom undiscovered. 

“Why did we stay here last night?” She scolded herself. 

“We were too drunk to leave.” He reasoned as he collapsed on the bed face down. 

“My father’s doing. He always hires heavy handed bartenders. Good lord, I only had four cups of whatever petrol was in that punch.”

“That you remember.” Jack laughed, clearly disagreeing.

She groaned and joined him on the bed. He turned his head so they were facing each other.

“When the clock struck midnight, we snuck away to the parlor.” She fought to recall. 

“Where you ravaged me.” He reminded her. 

“It was our first time alone in months.” She defended herself. “I was making up for lost time.” 

“You were drunk.” He smiled slowly. 

“You were here.” She smiled back.

“Surprise.” He exclaimed so weakly that she couldn’t help but kiss him. 

“Have I said thank you yet?” She asked seriously. 

“I don’t know.” He said honestly. 

“Thank you.” She whispered before kissing him slowly, relishing in the fact that she could. 

“You’re very welcome.” He assured her, kissing her right back. 

“How did you win the couch?” She asked, placing a hand on his chest. 

“You bet me that I couldn’t make you come again. I won. Twice.” He looked as smug as hungover man could look. 

“A challenge I wanted to lose.” She kept him humble. “I seem to recall you coming apart several times yourself. On me, inside me.” She licked her lips as she remembered how good he’d felt in her mouth.

“Phryne…” He groaned at the memory, unable to move in his current state, let alone take her again.

“Let’s see what we can do after a bath.” She posited as she rolled out of bed and headed towards the en suite. She ran the hottest bath she could manage and they sank into the water, hoping to steam away the toxins of whatever they had consumed the night before. She let her head loll back onto his shoulder as his hands came to rest on her ribcage, his fingers tracing her ribs.

“I had a dream about this once.” She confessed, running her fingers over his wrists. 

"When?”

“I don’t know, once.” She couldn’t recall an exact time. “This is better.” She smiled. 

“I’m glad. I was worried by the time I got here, I would find you had already moved on to some London society man.”

She smiled at how ridiculous that fear was until she realized he was serious. 

“I was miserable without you.” Her confession was made easier by the lack of eye contact. “I spent the majority of my days pouting and muttering.” She smiled. “Seeing you come around that corner, it was the happiest moment of my life.”

Jack kissed her shoulder intimately and she turned around, sloshing water over the slide of the tub as she moved to face him. She slung her arm over his shoulder and rubbed her nose against his.

“Phryne, I…” He paused and she looked him in the eye, letting him know it was alright to proceed. “I’m in love with you.” He stated it so simply, as if he were sorry he couldn't find another way to phrase it.

Phryne’s heart pounded in her chest and she lifted his hand to feel it beating wildly. 

He looked up in surprise at her.

“I love you too.” She replied, smiling at the shock of how easy it was to say it when she meant it. She saw the relief in his eyes and he kissed her for a while, exploring her, learning what she liked.

“God, I want to make love to you.” He muttered, knowing full well they were in no position to do so at the moment.

“Oh you are, darling.” She touched his cheek as she pulled him in for a long kiss before resting her forehead against his. “Don’t stop kissing me.” She begged as she pulled him in again. She had never appreciated foreplay with other men, finding she was too impatient, but kissing Jack wasn’t foreplay, it was action unto itself. 

She shivered and Jack took notice. 

“Are you cold?” He inquired.

“Not at all.” She buried a semi-embarrassed smile in his shoulder and he laughed. “I’ve never felt this greedy.” She confessed. “You’re turning me inside out.”

“As soon as I can manage to inhale without pain, I’m taking you to bed and we’re doing this properly.” He promised. 

“How about a big breakfast and a morning cocktail?”

“We’re going to try everything.” He assured her and she laughed as he pulled her to her feet, wanting to get them healthy as quickly as possible.


	24. Lonely

My last chapter! Merry Christmas to those of you in Australia--- happy Christmas Eve to those of us in the U.S....and to everyone in between and a happy weekend to those who don't celebrate Christmas!

Thank you @RositaLG for letting me take part in this challenge.

Today's word is Lonely, chosen by the rad Sarahtoo:

\--j&p--

Her friends had greeted her warmly upon her return. Sincere hugs and flowing drinks and seemingly endless laughs. But underneath all of it was a hint of smugness. “So _nice_ to have you back from the Antipodes”, was said in passing, as if it was assumed. As if she was back where she belonged and they all knew it.

It wasn’t worth the breath it would take for a rebuttal, but she knew. Alone in the evenings, the afternoons or early mornings, she felt at peace. Alone with her thoughts, contemplative moods, a glass of whiskey. Jack’s rhythms had seeped into her own. With the peace came an ache, a gap, a loneliness that couldn’t be filled with just anything. And she didn’t want to fill it. She treasured the ache, the memories, the crisp scent in the air, the sustained hope even in a goodbye.

He was on his way to her, but even if he wasn’t, she would still welcome this new sense of self.

And when he arrived, looking snowy and a bit trampled on, she couldn’t help but laugh. He only had eyes for her, and that ache inside her was charged, magnetized toward him. She placed her hand on his chest, landing over his heart, as if her ache and his were now connected, and both simultaneously soothed in the process. She’d missed him, but even more so, she’d missed _them_. The rightness and belonging and sense of being known.

Of course, there was more to know, and as she showed him to his room, she stood in the doorway. He set his suitcase down and then turned and looked at her. As naturally as anything, she moved into his arms. His lips on hers were soft but commanding. Soon she was back against the doorjamb and parting her lips to let him kiss her more thoroughly. And he was thorough…all night long.

In the morning, she woke beside him, the morning Christmas light cocooning them in peaceful bliss. A slow and sweet kiss bloomed between them. His hands moved over her shoulders before wrapping around her waist. The contours of his body set off her curiosity once again, and every touch of her palms on his body brought heat and pleasure between her legs. She touched the taut muscle of his chest and arms, laid back to feel the hard surface of his bare stomach against hers. The feel of his hips and thighs pressing hers open made her nipples tighten cruelly, and he soothed them with his tongue, long laps that made her restless, made her helplessly spear her fingers into his hair and hold him in place.

“Jack,” she murmured, running her hands over his neck and shoulders and back, staring up at him from below. She was centered and grounded physically, but still felt like she was floating.

“I want you,” he replied, his hands lightly brushing against her inner thighs. “Unless you’re too sore?”

It wasn’t even dirty talk, not even close, but it still made her stomach swoop. “I’m not too sore,” she promised, arching into him as he paused at her entrance before sliding deep. The connection was a sharper sensation to how she’d felt when he arrived on her doorstep, the need to be filled was fulfilled literally and figuratively. The truth was that she _was_ a bit tender, all the more swollen and flush inside from a nighttime’s worth of sex. But the feel of him inside her was a sweet ache, and she sank her back and shoulders deeper into the mattress, wrapping her arms and legs around him. The rhythm was so loving. Phryne watched his face as Jack moved over her and then watched his body as his muscles bunched with every glide in and out. She cupped one breast and rubbed the underside of her nipple, using the other hand between her legs to thumb her clit. 

“Phryne,” Jack rumbled, the sound coming from deep in his chest. His abdominal muscles flexed with every breath, each one growing harsher as he lost some of his control. His mouth lowered to hers. He stopped thrusting as he kissed her, and the tenderness in the action brought a flutter to her heart. They kissed and kissed and kissed until he broke away to pull in oxygen. Phryne buried her face in his neck and breathed _him_ in, involuntarily squeezing around his hard length with her inner muscles in reaction.

He groaned and planted his hands on the pillow on either side of his head, immediately bucking into her in response.

“Yes,” she murmured, skimming her lips and nose over his throat, over the stubble on his chin and cheeks, over his sensitive Adam’s apple, down to the hollow below and clavicle. She clutched his shoulders, remembering the night before. She’d clung to them, the rigid width. She did the same now, lifting her hips up and down, swiveling in time to the way he slid in and out of her. The friction was intoxicating, mindless, so _wonderfully_ good. So right.

It sped up, only growing more and more perfect toward the pinnacle. And when it came, when she shattered around him, and he buried himself deep inside her with a grateful groan, she’d never felt more connected to anyone.

He collapsed onto her for a second before rolling them both to their sides. He hitched her thigh over his hip and held her close, smoothing her hair behind her ear before cupping her shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Phryne whispered. But he heard her, and he kissed her softly in agreement, letting her know he felt the same way.

\--j&p--


	25. Euphemism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2017 Christmas Finale is brought to you by Lady_Lola_Lu and the word “Euphemism” and Headfirst’s “Parsimonious”. I cannot thank you enough for participating, commenting, and encouraging us as we worked on this project. You have no idea how much it helps! Happy reading!

“Morning, Inspector.”

“Mr. Yates. I’m afraid you’ve caught me locking up, but how can I assist you?” Jack asked as he closed his front door. He’d spent too long the night before wrangling holiday drunkards and he was less than thrilled with the immediate turnaround of opening the office. An early morning visit was not on his list.

“Here on a job, actually.” Cec smiled. “‘Spose to be taking you to the airfield. And don’t bother putting up a fuss. She’s quite excited.” He revealed under his breath.

Jack stared at the man curiously before realizing who ‘she’ was.

“It’s a surprise.” He added with a sympathetic shrug. 

Jack sighed.

“Should I pack a bag?” He asked, gesturing towards the house again. 

“In the boot, ready to go.” 

“Of course it is.” Jack rolled his eyes, wondering when he would stop being surprised by her gall. 

“Happy Christmas.” Cec smiled sheepishly. 

“And with you, Mr. Yates.” Jack forced a smile.

OOOOO 

When the car pulled up, she was dressed in her aviatrix gear and standing next to a plane he didn't recognize. 

“Will I be requiring my passport, Miss Fisher?” Jack asked loudly as dawn broke over the field.

“If I thought for one moment you would let me whisk you out of the country spontaneously, we would already be in America, riding those damn horses you’re so fond of.” She slammed the plane storage door shut. “I’m afraid this surprise is much more simple. We’ll be landing by lunch.”

“And where would that be precisely?”

“You’ll see.” She kissed him hello. “Are you surprised?”

“I’m surprised you got me time off for Christmas.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Relax, Jack. This will be fun.” She grinned.

“I feel the need to remind you of my current situation: I haven’t slept in 18 hours and you, Miss Fisher, are piloting the first airplane I’ve ever been in and I have absolutely no idea when or where it will land.” 

“East. We’re going east.” She pointed forward.

“So very helpful.” Jack muttered, suddenly doing a remarkable impersonation of her father. 

OOOOO 

By the time they had finally landed, Jack had stopped complaining and had actually enjoyed his first flight. Her flying skills didn't scare him nearly as much as her driving did, although, perhaps that was because there was nothing to hit but the ground.

When he stepped out of the plane, his legs felt like jelly for a moment as they tried to remember to hold his weight.

“Welcome to Sydney, Miss Fisher.” A man smiled.

“Surprise.” She touched Jack’s arm as she passed him, in a hurry to finish her business with the airport.

Jack hadn’t been in Sydney since the war ended. He wondered if the city had changed as much as he had. 

It wasn't long before their luggage was loaded into a car and they were taken into the city.

“Care to take a quick drive by the Harbour Bridge? Most folks like to see it.” The cab driver offered.

Phryne looked at Jack, letting him decide. 

“That would be fine.” He accepted. He watched as the cab driver navigated a few blocks out of their way and headed north towards the water. 

“It looks even more magnificent than the photos.” Phryne praised as it came into view.

“Amazing.” Jack agreed, staring at the metal marvel before him. He glanced over at Phryne, suddenly very grateful for her idea. She was paying no mind at all to the bridge. She was staring at him, her eyes smiling at his happiness.

“Thank you, sir. Now onto the hotel, if you would be so kind.” Phryne requested with more than a bit of urgency in her voice. 

Jack grinned at her impatience and reached for her hand. He didn't break contact with her until they came to a stop in front of the largest hotel Jack had ever seen.

“Good lord. It’s massive.” Jack commented as they got out of the cab. 

“What do you think?” Phryne asked as Jack took in the building before him. “Twelve stories, each one more luxurious than the next.” 

“Straight to the top for us, then?” He presumed.

“How did you know?” She looked a little crestfallen at the lack of surprise.

“Inspector.” He reminded her as he pointed to his own chest. “And no one has ever accused you of being parsimonious.” Jack smiled as he picked up her bag and handed it to the bellhop.

“I suppose that’s true. But Jack, they have a library and a billiards room. There’s no shortage of entertainment.” She promised. “I heard the suites are wonderful.” 

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Jack gestured for her to take the lead. They were led straight to the front desk. “Reservation for Fisher.” She said as she set an envelope of cash on the desk.

“Of course. Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Fisher.” Jack stopped looking around the lobby to stare at the attendant. 

“You heard the man,  _ Mr. Fisher _ .” She smiled far too widely for his liking. He offered her his arm to her all the same and they strolled to the elevators together. 

Jack fought the urge to gawk as she led him through the lobby. He’d never seen such extravagance in all his life. 

“Suite B please.” She instructed the elevator operator. 

He smiled as he felt her slyly reach for his fingers behind the operator’s gaze. He would have given them to her freely but there was something illicitly charming in the secret.

As soon as they reached their destination, the bellhop picked up their bags and carried them to their suite. He set them just inside the door as they took off their coats and hats and made themselves comfortable. 

“Thank you. We’ll fend for ourselves from hereon in.” Phryne smiled as she tipped the young man and he left them alone at last. She turned her attention to Jack. “Now you, Mr. Fisher, look absolutely a sight.” She looked him over. “You need a bath, a meal, and a good long nap. What shall I order for lunch?”

“You know, I don’t know which part of that name bothers me more: the loss of my identity or the demotion.” He said honestly. 

“Lunch, Jack. What are you having?” She kept him on track before his exhaustion and hunger led to a fight. “Something hardy? A prime rib sandwich, perhaps? With mashed potatoes?”

“Sounds fine.” He called from the bathroom where he was already running a bath. 

When she appeared again, she sat behind him on the ledge of the tub and began lathering his already wet hair with shampoo. She massaged his scalp in a way that neutralized him immediately. 

“If I fall asleep, drain the water out before I drown.” He requested as he leaned forward and she worked his neck. 

“You do whatever you want. You’re on holiday now.”

“Feels like a waste of all this to spend the afternoon sleeping.”

“Only because you haven’t see that big plush bed yet. You’ll think it was worth the flight just to experience it. Besides, if you sleep today, you’ll be awake tonight for dancing or... _ dancing _ .” She suggested, her tone rendering the euphemism useless. “Did I mention the ballroom?” 

“For the dancing or the... _ dancing _ ?” He inquired and it earned him a laugh. 

“Now I know you’re tired.” She rubbed his neck a final time before standing up. “The food will be here any moment. Would you care to eat at the table or in bed?”  

“Phryne, why did you do all this?” He asked her, unable to answer her question until another was answered.

“Because you work too hard and you put up a fight when anything more luxurious than a meal is laid before you.” She nibbled at his chin. “But mostly because I love making you happy.” She whispered. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You do.” He assured her. “And the table please.” He replied and she smiled more at the latter answer than the first. 

OOOOO 

Jack was roused from his nap around 6:30. He found that while he had gone to bed alone, he now shared his bed with a petite body completely swallowed by a blanket. He tugged the doona down and smiled at the sight she made. She was in a silk robe, whose sash had been loosened to the point of pointlessness under her restless tossing and turning. She curled up tighter and he replaced the blanket over top of her. He got up for a glass of water and to use the bathroom and when he returned to bed, she was awake.

“Hello.” He smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, you?”

He nodded as he crawled into bed again. 

“I was right about the bed.” She stretched before curling up beside him. “Wonderful.”

“Extremely comfortable.” He agreed. “The company doesn't hinder matters either.” He smiled and gently drew circles over her back.

“So am I forgiven for disrupting your schedule unannounced?”

“My schedule is always disrupted.” He smiled. “Only usually, there's a body involved.”

“I have a body.” She replied as she began stroking his inner thigh.

“Don’t you just...” He smirked. He tugged at the sash on her hips, opening her like a present. Her pretty pink skin was flushed from the summer heat and arousal and he couldn't resist running the pad of his finger from the dainty hollow of her throat through the valley of her breasts, into her belly button, and between her legs.

“Do you want to dance?” She asked coyly, still on her side facing him. 

Jack shoved his pajama bottoms down his legs, kicking them off somewhere beneath the blanket. He pulled her thigh over his hip, wanting to take her exactly like they were.

“Yes.” He responded immediately to her close body, his cock eager to seek out the source of such tantalizing heat.

She toyed with him for a few seconds before sheathing him inside her tight, snug pussy.

“Phryne.” He groaned out, unable to keep her name inside him. “Christ, you feel good.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, her eyes tight and her hips grinding in a slow sensual circle that was making him hazy already.

He rested his hand securely on the small of her back, keeping her close as he thrust deep inside her, again and again, in a relentlessly steady pace that never sped up and never slowed down. He was torturing himself with intimacy, wanting to be close and present with her as long as he could.

“Open your eyes, Phryne.” He begged, wanting to see the blue flames dancing in her eyes.

She obeyed and he nearly cried out from the shot of kerosene that roared through his veins at the sight. His hips sped up and she clung to him tighter with every pass through her, wanting to keep him inside her. 

“I love you.” Her voice was breaking and the statement sounded like a plea. “Jack…”

“Yes.” He encouraged, giving her permission to let go. “Oh yes.”

She panted his name, her pitch vocalizing her body’s climb as it got higher and higher until it finally broke. 

He couldn’t go on alone, spending himself inside her with a shuddering gasp as they held each other close. 

They stayed that way for quite some time, neither one daring to move. 

Phryne finally broke the stalemate, taking her leg back and rolling onto her side of the bed. 

Jack followed suit, staring up at the hotel ceiling as he contemplated their chemistry and whether or not it could actually kill him one day. 

Then again, there were worse ways to die. 

When he could manage, he turned onto his side to examine her. She was unusually quiet.

“Are you alright, Phryne?” He asked quietly. 

She nodded and took a deep breath but didn't respond. 

“What is it?” He asked, sitting up.

“I’ve been deliriously happy all week and it’s all your fault.” She accused with a small smile and sad eyes that he immediately recognized. “I’ve never had a good December before. I guess it just caught me by surprise how lovely this one has been with you.”

“You haven’t forgotten her.” Jack assured her and she looked over anxiously as he hit on her fear precisely.  “You haven’t.” He maintained. “Every time you talk about her, your face lights up. You adore her. You could never forget her.” 

“But…” She sighed.

“You do get to be happy, live life to the fullest, kidnap your partner for lavish trips wasted in bed.”

“Never wasted.” She pouted at his term as she let him pull her closer. 

“A little wasted.” He corrected himself.

“We’ll agree to disagree.” She played with the sprinkling of hair on his chest.

“I’m merely suggesting that you don’t have to feel guilty for living your life.” He finished. “It doesn’t do anyone any good.”

He spoke from experience and the look in her eyes told him she knew it. He watched her adore him for awhile in a way that would always make him feel inferior to whatever she was thinking before she laid her head down, her final decision made. 

“Not wasted on you at all.” She confirmed.

He smiled at her stubbornness. 

“Happy Christmas, Phryne.” He kissed the top of her head, giving up.

“Happy Christmas, Jack.”


End file.
